m 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Mrs.   '.Varren  Gregory 


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5^  * 


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tc^>         ^A^i 


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ON, 


AMERICAN 

MILITARY  BIOGRAPHY; 

CONTAINING  THE 
LIVES  AND  CHARACTERS, 

-OF    THE 

OFFICERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION, 

WHO   WERE   MOST   DISTINGUISHED   IN 
ACHIEVING  OUR  NATIONAL  INDEPENDENCE. 

ALSO, 

THE  LIFE  OF 
GILBERT  MOTHER  Z.A  PAYETTE, 

MAJOR-GENERAL  IN  THE  CONTINENTAL  ARMY MARSHAL 

OF  FRANCE,  AND  COMMANDER  IN  CHIEF 
OF  THE  NATIONAL  GUARDS. 


PUBLISHED    FOR 

SUBSCRIBERS. 

CINCINNATI. 

WHETSTONE  &  BUXTON— Printers 
1829, 


JV  A  SUMMARY   VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

to  despotism.  As  soon  as  the  colonies  had  fought  their 
way  to  a  condition,  which  afforded  the  prospect  of 
rapidly  increasing  in  population  and  wealth,  attempts 
were  made  to  restrict  their  commercial  and  political 
privileges,  and  gradually  to  reduce  them  to  the  most 
wretched  state  of  colonial  vassalage.  For  a  century 
and  a  half,  the  colonies  had  been  left  to  themselves  as 
to  taxation;  their  own  local  assemblies  had  provided 
the  necessary  revenues  to  defray  the  expenses  of  their 
governments;  and  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  had 
neither  directly  nor  indirectly  ever  attempted  to  derive 
a  dollar  of  revenue  from  America;  although  various 
acts  had  from  time  to  time  been  passed,  regulating  the 
trade  and  commerce  of  the  colonies,  yet  none  of  these 
were  designed  or  regarded,  either  in  Britain  or  Amer 
ica,  as  revenue  laws. 

But  in  an  inauspicious  moment,  the  British  ministry 
conceived  the  idea  of  taxing  the  colonies,  under  the 
pretence  of  providing  for  their  protection,  but  in  real 
ity  to  relieve  the  nation  from  the  immense  debt,  the 
weight  of  which  hung  heavily  upon  it.  This  iniquitous 
scheme,  originating  with  the  cabinet,  was  easily  in 
troduced  into  parliament;  and  in  March,  1764,  as  a 
prelude  to  the  memorable  Stamp  J)ct,  the  house  of  com 
mons  resolved,  "That  towards  further  defraying  the  ne 
cessary  expenses  of  protecting  the  colonies,  it  may  be 
necessary  to  charge  certain  stamp  duties  upon  them/'  and 
this  resolution  was  followed  by  what  was  commonly 
called  the  Sugar  Act,  passed  on  the  «0th  of  April,  and 
introduced  by  the  following  truly  alarming  preamble:— 
"Whereas  it  is  JUST  and  necessary  that  a  revenue  be 
raised  in  America,  for  defraying  the  expenses  of  defend 
ing,  protecting  and  securing  the  same ;  we,  the  commons, 
&c.  towards  raising  the  same,  give  and  grant  unto  your 
majesty,  after  the  29th  day  of  September,  1764,  on 
clayed  sugar,  indigo  and  coffee,  of  foreign  produce,  [and 
various  other  articles]  the  sum  of,*'  &c.  This  was  the 
first  act  adopted  by  parliament,  for  the  avowed  object 
of  raising  a  revenue  in  the  colonies.  The  justice  of  this 
measure,  which  appeared  so  clear  to  the  British  parlia- 
menUwas  regarded  in  America  as  oppression  and  tyranny. 


WHICH   LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  V 

and  occasioned  great  excitement  and  alarm.  The  de 
ceptive  pretension,  that  the  revenue  was  to  be  raised  for 
the  purpose  of  protecting  the  colonies,  was  only  adding 
insult  to  injustice;  as  the  colonies  supposed  that  they 
were  capable  of  protecting  themselves,  and  they  appre 
hended  that  the  object  was  rather  under  the  pretence 
of  affording  them  protection,  to  maintain  a  military  force 
in  America,  for  the  purpose  of  dragooning  them  into 
submission,  and  enforcing  an  unconstitutional  system  of 
taxation;  thereby  rendering  them  the  instruments  of 
forging  their  own  chains.  This  act  was  rendered  more 
disgusting,  by  a  provision  that  the  money  raised  by  it 
must  be  paid  in  specie,  and  another,  that  those  charged 
with  having  violated  the  revenue  laws,  might  be  prose 
cuted  in  the  courts  of  admiralty;  whereby  they  were 
deprived  of  the  privilege  of  trial  by  a  jury,  and  were 
liable  to  be  condemned  by  a  single  officer  of  the  crown, 
whose  salary  was  to  be  paid  from  the  very  forfeitures 
decreed  by  himself.  And  this  was  not  all,  or  even  the 
wor>t;asthe  trial  was  conducted  on  such  principles, 
that  the  accused,  contrary  to  the  well  known  maxims  of 
the  common  law,  and  repugnant  to  every  idea  of  justice, 
was  obliged  to  prove  himself  innocent,  or  suffer  the  pen- 
alt  es  of  the  law.  These  iniquitous  proceedings  des 
troyed  all  security  of  property,  and  left  every  one  at 
the  mercy  of  the  minions  of  the  Britsh  crown.  Their 
pernicious  influence  was  soon  felt  extensively  in  the  col 
onies;  they  no  longer  regared  Great  Britain  as  an  affec 
tionate  mother,  but  viewed  her  in  the  light  of  a  selfish, 
cruel  and  imperious  step-mother.  The  designs  of  the 
ministry  were  penetrated,  and  occasioned  great  alarm, 
which  spread  wider  and  wider,  until  it  became  univer 
sal.  The  press,  that  great  engine  of  truth  and  liberty, 
was  called  into  requisition ;  the  subject  was  ably  and 
elaborately  discussed;  and  the  more  it  was  discussed, 
and  the  better  it  was  understood,  the  more  strong  and 
determined  the  opposition  became.  All  the  colonies 
petitioned  and  remonstrated  against  these  obnoxious 
measures,  and  most  of  them  appointed  agents  to  present 
their  memorials  to  parliament,  or  the  king. 


VI  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

But  notwithstanding  the  excitement  and  opposition  in 
America,  and  the  remonstrances  of  the  colonies,  Mr. 
Grenville,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  treasury,  pre 
pared  the  Stamp-Bill,  and  introduced  it  into  parliament 
in  February,  1765;  and  although  opposed  with  all  the 
powers  of  eloquence,  by  Alderman  Beckford,  Mr.  Jack 
son,  Colonel  Barre,  Sir  William  Meredith  and  others,  it 
\vas  adopted  by  a  great  majority  ;  fifty  only  voting  in  op 
position,  out  of  about  three  hundred  members,  who  were 
present.  On  the  second  reading  of  the  bill,  various 
petitions,  not  only  from  the  colonies,  but  from  the  Lon 
don  merchants  interested  in  the  American  trade,  were 
presented;  but  the  petitions  were  not  even  received, 
being  refused,  on  the  plea  that  no  memorial  could  be 
received  on  a  money  bill.  Having  passed  both  houses 
of  parliament,  on  the  22d  of  March,  the  Stamp-Act  re 
ceived  the  royal  assent.  Dr.  Franklin,  then  in  England, 
as  agent  for  Pennsylvania,  wrote  to  Charles  Thompson, 
afterwards  secretary  of  congress — "The  sun  of  liberty 
is  set ;  you  must  light  up  the  lamps  of  industry  and  econ 
omy."  Mr.  Thompson,  in  a  spirited  reply,  observed, 
"That  he  thought  other  lights  would  be  lighted  up  to  re 
sist  these  unconstitutional  measures."  It  is  necessary 
to  add,  that  this  prediction  was  soon  fulfilled. 

This  unjust  and  impolitic  act  was  the  first  great  cause 
which  led  to  the  American  revolution;  indeed  it  was 
substantially  the  first  scene  in  the  bloody  drama  of  that 
revolution.  It  was  passed  in  parliament,  on  the  7th  of 
February,  1765,  under  the  ministry  of  Lord  Grenville, 
and  was  repealed  on  the  18th  of  March,  1766,  from  the 
influence  of  Mr.  Pitt.  This  period  of  thirteen  months 
•was  the  most  eventful  and  tumultuous  of  any  which  had 
hitherto  occurred  ;  the  apprehensions  of  the  people  were 
roused  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  the  most  determined 
spirit  of  opposition  prevailed  throughout  the  colonies. 
The  Americans  had  not  believed  that  the  act  would  be 
passed,  and  on  receiving  the  intelligence,  every  one  was 
struck  with  astonishment  and  filled  with  consternation; 
they  looked  at  each  other  with  amazement,  and  for  a 
short  interval,  hesitated  what  course  to  pursue  ;  but  soon 
recovering  from  their  consternation  they  determined  not 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  Vll 

to  submit  to  such  a  flagrant  outrage  on  their  rights.  In 
Boston,  the  ships  in  the  harbor,  in  token  of  the  deepest 
mourning,  suspended  their  colors  half-mast  high;  the 
bells  were  rung  muffled ;  and  the  obnoxious  act,  with  a 
death's  head  in  front  of  it,  with  the  motto — "THE  FOLLY 
OF  ENGLAND  AND  THE  RUIN  OF  AMERICA,"  was  carried  in 
solemn  procession  about  the  streets.  The  discontents 
soon  spread  throughout  the  colonies,  and  the  opposition 
became  general  and  determined;  the  spirit  of  the  peo 
ple  gave  a  tone  to  the  colonial  assemblies,  and  bold  and 
decided  resolutions  were  adopted  against  the  iniqui 
tous  scheme  of  parliamentary  taxation.  Virginia  took 
the  lead,  and  on  the  28th  of  May,  1765,  Patric  Henry 
introduced  his  celebrated  resolutions  into  the  house  of 
burgesses,  which  declared  that  the  inhabitants  of  that 
colony  were  entitled  to,  and  had  possessed  and  enjoyed 
all  the  rights,  liberties  and  privileges  of  the  people  of 
Great  Britain;  that  the  general  assembly  of  the  colony 
had  always  exercised  and  alone  possessed  the  power  to 
levy  taxes  and  imposts  on  the  inhabitants  of  the  colony, 
and  that  they  "were  not  bound  to  yield  obedience  to 
any  law  or  ordinance  whatsoever,  designed  to  impose 
any  taxation  whatever  upon  them  other  than  the  law 
and  ordinances  of  the  general  assembly."  So  bold  and 
unexpected  were  these  resolutions,  that  whilst  they 
were  reading,  one  of  the  members  cried  out  "treason! 
treason !" 

These  resolutions  were  communicated  to  all  the  col 
onies,  and  the  spirit  they  breathed  spread  from  one  legis 
lature  to  another,  and  their  "sentiments  were  reitera 
ted  in  resolutions  adopted  by  the  legislatures  and 
the  freemen  in  public  meetings.  Committees  were  ap 
pointed,  by  the  assemblies  of  the  colonies,  to  correspond 
with  each  other,  and  to  meet  for  consultation ;  the  object 
of  which  was  to  secure  harmony  of  feeling  and  concert 
of  action.  These  measures  had  a  very  happy  effect;  in 
the  mean  time,  the  press  teemed  with  constant  publica 
tions,  vindicating  the  rights  of  the  colonies;  and  many 
of  them  were  of  a  highly  inflammatory  character,  calcu 
lated  to  raise  the  public  mind  to  the  highest  pitch.  The 
pulpit  also,  particularly  in  New-England,  laboured  in  the 


A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

same  cause  with  great  zeal  and  effect;  the  flame  of  lib 
erty  kindled  from  breast  to  breast,  and  spread  from  prov 
ince  to  province,  until  the  conflagration  became  general. 
The  spirit  of  opposition  ran  so  high  as  to  break  out  into 
acts  of  tu  ult  and  disorder.  In  Boston  the  effigy  of 
Mr.  Oliver,  the  stamp-master,  was  burnt,  and  his  house 
assailed,  partly  demolished,  and  his  furniture  destroyed  ; 
and  soon  after,  the  house  of  William  Storer,  deputy- 
register  of  the  court  of  admiralty,  was  attacked,  and 
the  books  and  files  of  the  court  destroyed  ;  and  the  house 
of  Mr.  Hallowell,  comptroller  of  the  customs,  shared  the 
same  fate.  These  outrages  were  followed  by  a  more  bold 
and  daring  attack  upon  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Hutchinson, 
Lieut,  governor  of  the  province ;  he  was  obliged  to  flee  to 
save  his  life,  and  his  house  was  entirely  demolished,  ex 
cept  the  walls,  and  every  thing  in  it  destroyed  or  carried 
off.  Similar  outrages  were  committed  in  other  places. 
In  Connecticut,  Mr.  Ingersoll,  the  stamp  officer,  was 
burnt  in  effigy  in  many  towns;  and  whilst  he  was  pro 
ceeding  from  New-Haven  to  Hartford,  where  the  assem 
bly  vvas  in  session,  he  was  pursued  and  overtaken  by  a 
large  concourse  of  people,  some  from  more  than  thirty 
miles,  and  compelled  to  resign  his  office,  which  was 
followed  by  three  hearty  cheers  of  liberty  and  property. 
This  took  place  at  Wethersfield,  from  whence  the  peo 
ple,  who  were  headed  by  militia  officers,  proceeded  to 
Hartford,  where  Mr.  Ingersoll  was  compelled  to  read 
his  resignation  in  the  hearing  of  the  assembly,  which 
was  succeeded  by  loud  acclamations  of  liberty  and 
property.  In  New  York  the  stamp  officer  vvas  compel 
led  to  resign,  and  Lieutenant  Governor  Golden  was 
burnt  in  effigy,  with  a  stamp-bill  in  his  hand,  suspended 
from  his  own  coach,  and  the  whole  was  consumed  to 
gether. 

In  the  southern  colonies,  the  public  feeling  did  not 
lead  to  the  same  excesses;  but  in  all  of  them,  means 
were  found  to  compel  the  stamp  officers  to  resign;  and 
in  all  the  colonies  the  assemblies  adopted  resolutions  in 
opposition  to  the  stamp-act,  although  in  many  of  them 
the  royal  governors  prorogued  and  attempted  to  sto-p 
their  proceedings.  The  members  of  the  colonial  assem- 


WHICH   LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XI 

blies  were  animated  and  encouraged  by  the  people, 
who,  in  most  of  the  towns,  instructed  them  to  oppose 
the  stamp  act.  But  the  most  important  measure  to 
unite  the  colonies  and  give  energy  and  effect  to  their 
opposition,  was  convening  a  continental  congress,  con 
sisting  of  deputies  appointed  by  each  coloney.  This 
measure  was  first  proposed  by  the  assembly  of  [Massa 
chusetts.  The  meeting  was  appointed  to  be  holden  in 
New- York,  in  October,  1765.  All  the  colonies,  except 
New-Hampshire,  Virginia,  North -Carolina,  and  Georgia, 
sent  deputies;  the  three  last  of  these  colonies  were  pre 
vented  by  their  governors,  and  the  first  excused  itself  on 
account  of  its  peculiar  situation.  The  congress,  after 
mature  deliberation,  adopted  a  declaration  of  rights, 
and  a  statement  of  the  grievances  of  the  colonies,  and 
asserted,  in  the  strongest  terms,  their  exemption  from  all 
taxes  not  imposed  by  their  own  representatives.  It  also 
prepared  a  petition  to  the  house  of  commons. 

As  the  first  of  November,  the  time  when  the  stamp- 
act  was  to  go  into  operation,  approached,  public  feeling 
became  still  stonger  and  was  exerted  to  the  utmost  to 
prevent  the  execution  of  the  law.  In  New  York,  ten 
boxes  of  stamps,  which  had  arrived  there  for  Connec 
ticut,  were  seized  by  the  populace  and  burned ;  and  in 
other  ports,  the  masters  of  vessels,  which  brought  out 
stamps,  were  compelled  to  return  with  their  detestable 
cargoes  or  deliver  them  up  to  the  people  to  be  destroyed. 
In  Boston,  and  many  of  the  principal  towns,  the  first  of 
November  was  kept  as  a  day  of  mourning  and  deep 
distress:  all  the  shops  were  shut,  the  bells  were  tolled 
muffled,  and  the  effigies  of  the  authors  and  abettors  of 
the  act  were  carried  in  procession  through  the  streets, 
and  then  torn  to  pieces  and  consumed  by  the  flames. 

The  lawyers  of  the  supreme  court  in  New-Jersey  re 
solved  that  they  would  not  purchase  the  stamps  in  their 
professional  business,  and  that  they  would  relinquish 
their  practice  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  public  good ;  and  the 
principal  merchants  in  the  colonies,  and  great  numbers 
of  other  classes  of  the  inhabitants,  entered  into  solemn 
'engagements  not  only  to  refuse  to  use  the  stamps,  but 
also  not  to  import  any  more  goods  from  Great  Britain 

B 


£  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OP 

tintil  the  stamp  act  should  DP  repealed.  Associations 
were  formed,  called  the  "Sons  of  Liberty,"  the  object  of 
which  was,  to  assist  and  protect  with  force,  if  necessary, 
every  one  who  might  be  in  danger  from  his  resistance  or 
opposition  to  the  stamp  act.  This  bold  association  ori 
ginated  in  New- York,  and  prevailed  throughout  New 
England,  and,  had  not  the  act  been  repealed,  must  have 
led  to  civil  war.  The  restrictive  measures  produced 
distress  and  tumults  in  England;  large  numbers  of  the 
manufacturers  being  thrown  out  of  employment,  and 
more  than  forty  thousand,  with  black  flags,  appeared  in 
the  streets  in  London,  and  surrounded  the  royal  palace 
and  parliament  house.  Fortunately  a  change  of  min 
istry  took  place,  in  consequence  of  what  was  called 
the  regency  bill,  and  Lord  Grenville  was  succeeded  by 
the  Marquis  of  Rockingham,  as  first  lord  of  the  treasu 
ry,  and  the  Duke  of  Grafton  and  General  Conway  were 
appointed  secretaries  of  state.  In  January  the  parlia 
ment  met;  the  affairs  of  America  occupied  the  princi 
pal  attention,  and  the  first  talents  of  the  house  were 
engaged  in  the  discussion.  Mr.  Pitt,  who  had  been  con 
fined  to  his  bed  by  sickness,  when  the  stamp  act  was 
passed,  now  came  forward  as  the  great  champion  of  the 
rights -of  the  Americans,  and  with  his  manly  and  all- 
powerful  eloquence,  opposed  the  unjust,  unconstitutional 
and  dangerous  measures  ;he  even  justified  the  Americans 
in  their  resistance  of  an  act  of  tyranny  and  oppression. 
After  a  long  and  animated  discussion,  the  act  was  repeal 
ed,  accomplished,  however,  with  a  declaration,  "that  the 
king  and  parliament  had.  and  of  right  ought  to  have, 
full  power  and  authority  to  make  laws  and  statutes  of 
sufficient  force  to  bind  the  colonies,  and  his  majesty's 
subjects  in  them,  in  all  cases  whatsoever"  An  act  of  in 
demnity  was  also  passed. 

The  repeal  of  the  obnoxious  act  occasioned  universal 
joy,  both  in  Great  Britain  and  America;  the  ships  in  the 
Thames  displayed  their  colours,  and  the  whole  city  of 
London  was  illuminated;  and  in  the  colonies,  notwith 
standing  the  declaratory  act,  asserting  the  principle  of 
taxation,  the  joy  and  rejoicings  were  universal ;  the  non 
importation  resolutions  were  rescinded;  animosities,  ill- 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XI 

treatment,  and  every  thing  past,  were  forgotten,  and  com 
mercial  intercourse  with  Great  Britain  was  resumed  with 
greater  activity  than  ever  before  had  been  witnessed.  The 
colonies  hoped  and  believed,  that  harmony  would  now 
be  restored,  and  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to  pro 
mote  this  desirable  object.  But  the  officers  of  the 
crown,  the  minions  of  power,  and  the  expectants  of 
p-a"e.  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  the  officers  of  the 
British  government  at  home,  and  attempted  to  promote 
tht-ir  own  selfish  views  by  misrepresenting  their  coun 
trymen.  Governor  Bernard,,  of  Massachusetts,  was  the 
head  of  this  party,  which  contributed  so  much  to  breed 
difficulties  and  bring  matters  to  a  crisis.  Notwitstand- 
ingthat  the  declaratory  act  still  hung  over  the  heads 
of  the  colonies,  like  a  portentous  cloud,  it  was  not  gen 
erally  expected  that  the  British  government  would  very 
soon  make  another  so  dangerous  an  experiment.  But 
these  reasonable  expectations,  however,  soon  proved  to 
be  fallacious,  and  all  reliance  on  the  justice  or  liberty  of 
Britain,  were  found  to  be  deceptive  and  dangerous. — 
Notwithstanding  the  distraction  into  which  the  colonies 
had  been  thrown,  by  the  stamp-act,  within  a  few  months 
after  its  repeal,  and  before  the  wounds  it  had  occasioned 
had  had  time  to  heal,  the  chancellor  of  the  exchequer, 
Charles  Townsend,  came  forward  with  a  new  scheme 
of  taxing  America,  and  was  so  sangune  in  his  views, 
that  he  pledged  his  character  for  the  success  of  the  pro 
ject.  The  new  revenue  scheme  was,  to  take  off  the  du 
ties  on  teas,  which  were  paid  in  Great  Britain,  and  to 
levy  three  pence  per  pound  on  all  that  was  purchased  in 
America,  and  also  a  duty  on  paper,  glass  and  several 
other  articles.  A  board  of  customs  was  established, 
and  commissioners  appointed  to  set  in  Boston  to  collect 
the  duties;  and  the  custom  officers  were  to  be  paid  from 
the  revenue  thus  raised ;  and  the  governor,  judges  of  the 
superior  court,  and  other  officers  in  Massachusetts,  who 
had  hitherto  been  depend  ;nt  for  their  salaries  on  the 
assembly,  to  render  them  independent  of  the  people,  and 
more  devoted  to  Great  Britain,  were  also  to  be  paid  from 
these  revenues.  An  1  to  carry  the  iniquitous  system 
into  effect  (as  unjust  laws  can  only  be  enforced  by  unj 


Xll  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

just  means,)  the  powers  of  the  court  of  admiralty  were 
greatly  extended,  so  as  to  deprive  the  people  of  trial  by 
jury  in  prosecutions  for  violating  the  revenue  laws. — 
Writs  of  Assistance,  as  they  were  called,  issued  by  the 
governor,  or  any  officer  of  the  revenue,  authorised 
searching  the  house  of  the  most  respectable  inhabitant 
in  the  province,  on  suspicion  of  the  concealment  of  con 
traband  or  smuggled  goods. 

When  intelligence  of  these  new  parliamentary  regu 
lations  reached  America,  they  occasioned  universal 
astonishment,  and  revived  all  the  excitement  and  alarm 
which  prevailed  during  the  stamp-act.  In  the  minds  of 
reflecting  men  they  were  regarded  as  more  dangerous 
than  that  obnoxious  act,  as  an  indirect  and  disguis 
ed  system  of  taxation  had  a  more  certain  and  fatal 
tendency  to  undermine  the  liberties  and  enslave  the 
people,  than  direct  taxes.  The  colonies,  assailed  by  the 
same  injuries,  had  recourse  to  the  former  measures  of 
complaint  and  supplication;  but  their  petitions  were  not 
even  read,  and  their  remonstrances  treated  with  con 
tempt,  th'j3  adding  insult  to  injustice.  These  accumu 
lated  injuries  and  indignities  aroused  the  fears  and 
spirit  of  the  colonies;  and  a  circular  letter,  addressed  to 
the  other  colonies,  by  the  assembly  of  Massachusetts, 
contributed  to  diffuse  the  flame  and  lead  to  concert  of 
action.  This  letter  was  dated  the  1 1th  of  February, 
1768,  and  the  sentiments  it  contained  were  reiterated 
by  mcst  of  the  colonial  assemblies.  From  the  bold  and 
determined  conduct  of  the  assembly  of  Massachusetts, 
it  was  prorogued  by  the  governor.  Another  assembly 
was  convened  in  May  following,  to  which  the  governor, 
in  his  first  communication,  insolently  demanded  of  them, 
as  required  by  the  British  Secratary  of  State,  to  rescind 
the  resolutions  of  the  preceding  assembly,  which  led  to 
the  circular  letter,  and  intimated  that  unless  they  com 
plied  immediately  they  would  be  dissolved  at  once. 
But  the  assembly  acted  with  a  firmness  which  became 
the  defenders  of  liberty;  and  instead  of  complying  with 
this  haughty  mandate,  petitioned  the  king  for  the  re 
moval  of  the  royal  governor,  and  charged  upon  him  a 
long  catalogue  of  crimes.  The  governor,  exasperated 


WHICH  LED  TO   THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XUl 

at  their  conduct,  immediately  dissolved  the  mutinous 
assembly,  and  applied  to  the  commander  in  chief  of  the 
kind's  troops,  then  in  New  York,  to  have  several  addi 
tional  regiments  sent  to  Boston.  Alarmed  at  these  cir 
cumstances,  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  beseeched  the 
governor  to  convene  another  assembly;  but  he  treated 
their  request  with  contempt.  The  crisis  required  some 
thing  to  be  done,  without  delay,  and  accordingly  letters 
were  written  to  every  town  in  the  colony,  requesting  the 
appointment  of  delegates  to  meet  in  convention  at  Bos 
ton,  before  the  arrival  of  the  troops.  Delegates  from 
ninety-six  towns  met  on  the  22d  of  September.  The 
governor  instantly  sent  them  an  angry  message,  com 
manding  them  to  disperse,  threatening,  in  case  of  refusal, 
that  they  would  suffer  the  consequence  of  their  temeri 
ty.  The  convention,  however,  was  not  frightened  into 
submission,  but  gave  their  reasons  for  convening,  contin 
ued  their  deliberations,  and  prepared  a  petition  to  the 
king. 

On  the  first  of  October,  the  troops  arrived  and  land 
ed;  and,  sword  in  hand,  paraded  through  the  streets  of 
Boston,  which  were  filled  with  vast  crowds,  who  with 
sullen  silence,  denoting  the  deepest  resentment,  witness 
ed  this,  the  first  act  ia  the  great  and  bloody  drama  about 
to  be  performed.  No  tumult  or  resistance  however, 
ensued,  notwithstanding  the  troops  were  quartered  in 
the  houses  of  the  inhabitants.  The  assembly  met  in 
May,  1769,  and  immediately  adopted  several  spirited 
resolutions;  that  the  placing  an  armed  force  where  the 
legislature  was  convened,  to  overawe  their  delibera 
tions,  was  a  breach  of  privilege,  and  that  the  quartering 
of  troops  on  the  inhabitants  in  time  of  peace,  was  illegal 
and  a  violation  of  the  rights  and  liberties  of  British 
subjects. 

A  standing  army  was  now  stationed  in  the  capital  of 
Massachusetts,  for  the  avowed  object  of  coercing  the 
inhabitants  into  submission;  their  commerce  fettered, 
their  characters  traduced,  the  assembly  prevented  from 
meeting,  and  the  petitions  of  all  classes  to  have  the  as 
sembly  convened,  treated  with  contempt  by  an  insolent 
governor,  who  threatened  to  augment  the  troops,  and 


XIV  A  SUMMERY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

enforce  at  all  hazards,  his  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  mea 
sures;  it  cannot  be  surprising  that  the  fears  and  exaspe 
rations  of  the  people  exceeded  what  had  ever  been  wit 
nessed  before.  At  this  alarming  conjuncture,  something 
must  be  done,  and  there  was  no  other  alternative  but 
submission  or  resistance,  as  petitions  had  been  treated 
with  such  contempt,  that  to  memorialize  any  branch  of 
the  British  government  would  be  equivalent  to  submis 
sion  ;  and  there  were  but  two  ways  of  resistance,  either 
an  appeal  to  the  sword,  or  an  entire  suspension  of  all 
commercial  intercourse  with  (>reat  Britain,  which,  as 
was  said  by  Mr.  Pitt  in  his  speech,  furnished  the  means 
whereby  Britain  had  carried  on  the  war  with  Francer 
and  which  if  continued,  would  afford  the  means  of  their 
own  oppression.  As  all  the  colonies  were  involved  irj 
one  common  danger,  they  readily  entered  into  the  most 
solemn  engagements,  that  no  British  or  India  goods 
should  be  imported  except  a  few  specified  articles  of 
nece-sary  use.  The  effects  of  these  arrangements  were 
soon  felt  in  England,  and  produced  clamors,  and  even 
tumults  in  some  parts  of  the  kingdom.  But  the  partizans 
of  the  crown  in  America,  endeavored  by  their  correspon 
dence,  to  induce  the  ministry  to  persevere  in  their  op 
pressive  measures,  and  represented  in  the  strongest 
terms,  that  the  interruption  of  commerce  was  only  an 
effort  of  desperation,  which  could  not  last  long.  They 
advised  the  ministry,  to  purchase  large  quantities  of 
goods,  designed  for  the  American  market,  and  also  to 
allow  the  merchants  engaged  in  the  American  trade,  a 
premium  equal  to  the  profits  of  their  stock  in  business. 
44  If  these  measures  are  adopted,"  said  Mr.  Oliver,  sec 
retary  in  Massachusetts,  in  one  of  his  letters,  "the  game 
will  soon  be  up  with  my  countrymen" 

The  assembly  which  convened  at  Boston  in  May,  set 
several  weeks  without  doing  any  business,  as  they  refu 
sed  to  act  as  long  as  an  armed  force  was  quartered  in 
the  town,  and  surrounded  the  house  where  they  were  in 
session;  they  were  finally  adjourned  to  Cambridge.— 
They  sent  several  messages  to  the  governor  to  have  the 
troops  removed,  but  after  evading  the  matter  for  some 
time,  he  declared  he  had  no  authority  over  the  king's 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XV 

troops;  thus  admitting  that  the  military  was  above  the 
civil  power  in  the  province.  Governor  Bernard  sent  a 
provoking  message,  stating  the  expenditures  of  quarter 
ing  the  troops  on  the  town,  and  requesting  that  provision 
be  made  for  the  payment  of  the  same,  and  also  for  their 
future  support;  the  assembly  were  thus  called  onto 
maintain  the  instruments  by  which  they  were  to  be  op 
pressed  and  enslaved.  But  instead  of  complying  with 
this  request,  they  passed  several  spirited  resolutions, 
censuring  the  conduct  of  the  governor  and  Gen.  Gage, 
for  their  rash  and  oppressive  measures,  their  wanton 
violations  of  the  constitution,  the  introduction  of  a  stan 
ding  army  in  time  of  peace,  and  their  encroachments  on 
the  liberties  of  the  citizens  and  of  the  province.  The 
governor  had  received  an  order  to  repair  to  England, 
and  lay  before  the  king  the  state  of  the  colony;  which 
he  communicated  to  the  assembly,  with  a  request  that 
his  salary  might  be  continued  during  his  absence,  as  his 
office  would  remain  But  the  assembly  informed  him 
in  decided  terms,  that  they  could  not  comply  with  either 
of  his  requests.  On  receiving  this  answer,  he  immedi 
ate,  after  a  short,  angry,  and  threatening  speech,  pro 
rogued  the  legislature.  He  soon  after  set  sail  for  Eu 
rope,  then  little  thinking  that  he  should  never  return  to  a 
country  that  by  his  violent  temper  and  arbitrary  conduct, 
he  had  brought  to  the  brink  of  civil  war.  His  reception 
at  court  convinced  the  Americans  of  the  truth  of  what 
they  feared,  that  the  governor  had  been  sent  for,  as  a 
mischievous  emissary,  rather  than  for  an  impartial  in 
quiry  into  the  real  situation  of  the  province,  or  an  inves 
tigation  of  his  own  conduct. 

Thomas  Hutchinson,  the  lieutenant-governor,  was  ap 
pointed  to  succeed  Governor  Bernard.  Hutchinson  was 
a  native  of  Boston,  and  had  run  a  career  of  popularity; 
whilst,  however,  he  was  courting  the  people  at  home, 
he  was  not  less  assidious  in  ingratiating  himself  into  the 
favour  of  the  British  government,  by  misrepresenting  his 
countrymen.  He  was  artful  and  plausible,  and  posses 
sed  of  popular  talents;  but  was  insidious,  dark,  intriguing 
and  ambitious ;  and  the  extreme  of  avarice  marked  every 
feature  of  his  character.  His  appointment  was  announr 


XVI  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

ced  at  the  close  of  the  year  1769.  He  immediately  as 
sumed  a  more  haughty  tone,  and  aimed  at  more  high 
handed  measures  than  his  predecessor,  and  commenced 
his  administration  by  informing  the  assembly  that  he  was 
independent  of  them  and  the  people,  as  his  rnajestv  had 
made  provisions  for  his  salary.  Secure  of  the  favor  of 
his  sovereign,  he  treated  the  people  and  the  assembly 
with  contempt,  and  answered  their  repeated  solicita 
tions  to  remove  the  troops  from  the  capital,  by  with 
drawing  the  garrison  from  a  strong  fortress  in  the  har 
bor  of  Boston,  who  were  in  the  pay  of  the  province,  and 
replacing  them  by  two  regiments  of  the  king's  troops. 
The  ebulitions,  of  popular  feeling,  were  so  high  as  to 
occasion  great  alarm  with  the  leading  patriots,  that  it 
would  break  out  into  acts  of  violence,  which  might  in 
jure  the  cause  of  the  people.  The  miserable  minions 
of  power  in  America,  endeavoured  to  promote  this  re 
sult,  and  openly  avowed,  "  that  the  only  method  to  re 
store  tranquility,  was  to  takeoff  {he  original  incendiaries, 
whose  writings  had  instilled  the  poison  of  sedition  into 
the  people."  James  Otis,  the  most  active,  bold  and  influ 
ential  patriot  of  the  day,  having  published  under  his 
proper  signature,  some  severe  strictures  on  the  conduct 
of  the  officers  of  the  crown,  was  assaulted  in  a  public 
room,  by  a  band  of  hired  ruffians,  with  swords  and 
bludgeons;  and  being  covered  with  wounds,  was  left 
for  dead.  The  assassins  made  their  escape,  and  took 
refuge  on  board  the  king's  ships  in  the  harbor.  Mr.  Otis 
survived,  but  the  lamp  of  his  understanding  which  had 
glowed  with  such  effulgence,  was  overcast  with  clouds 
ancPdarkness.  Mr.  John  Adams  says  that  he  fc*laid  the 
foundation  of  the  American  revolution,  with  an  energy, 
and  with  those  masterly  talents  which  no  other  man  pos 
sessed ;"  and  he  is  justly  considered  as  the  first  martyr 
to  American  liberty. 

The  insults  which  the  inhabitants  constantly  experi 
enced,  from  the  soldiers,  increased  their  animosity  to 
wards  them  to  such  a  degree,  as  to  lead  to  violence  and 
Wood-shed.  On  the  2d  of  March,  1770.  an  affray  took 
place  between  a  party  of  soldiers  of  the  29th  regiment, 
and  some  rope-makers,  in  front  of  Mr.  Gray's  rope-walk. 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XVII 

This  was  followed  by  a  more  alarming  outrage  on  the 
5th:  the  indignant  populace  pressed  upon  and  insulted 
the  soldiers,  while  under  arms,  and  assailed  them  with 
clubs,  sticks  and  snow- balls,  covering  stones.  Being 
dared  to  fire  by  the  mob,  six  of  the  soldiers  discharged 
their  muskets,  which  killed  three  of  the  citizens,  and 
wounded  five  others.  The  effect  of  this  was  electric; 
the  town  \vas  instantly  in  commotion,  and  the  mass  of 
the  people  were  so  exasperated,  that  it  required  the  ut 
most  exertions  to  prevent  their  rallying  and  driving  the 
British  myrmidons  out  of  town;  and  nothing  but  an  as 
surance  that  the  troops  should  be  withdrawn,  prevented 
this  resort  to  force.  The  captain  of  the  party  and  eight 
men  were  brought  to  trial;  two  of  them  were  found 
guilty;  the  captain  and  the  other  men  were  acquitted. 
A  general  meeting  of  the  inhabitants  was  immediately 
assembled  in  Faneuil  Hall,  who  unanimously  resolved 
that  no  armed  fofce  should  be  suffered  longer  to  reside 
in  the  capital;  and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  wait 
on  the  governor,  and  request  the  immediate  removal  of 
the  troops.  The  governor  refused  to  act,  under  pretence 
of  want  of  authority ;  but  Col.  Dalrymple,  alarmed  at  the 
state  of  things,  proposed  to  withdraw  the  29th  regiment, 
which  was  more  culpable  than  any  other;  but  he  was 
informed  that  not.  a  soldier  should  be  left  in  town;  he 
was  reluctantly  compelled  to  comply,  and  within  four 
days  not  a  Red-coat  remained.  This  tragical  affair  pro 
duced  the  deepest  impressions  on  the  minds  of  the  peo 
ple;  and  the  anniversary  of  the  massacre  of  the  5th  of 
March,  1770,  was  commemorated  for  many  years,  and 
orations  delivered,  which  unfolded  the  blessings  of  civil 
liberty,  the  horrors  of  slavery,  the  dangers  of  standing 
armies,  and  the  rights  of  the  colonies.  These  an 
nual  orations  administered  fuel  to  the  fire  of  liberty,  and 
kept  it  burning  with  an  incessant  flame,  and  in  no  small 
degree  promoted  the  cause  of  the  colonies,  in  a  manner 
that  served  to  give  a  deeper  glow  to  the  flame  of  liberty. 
In  the  spring  of  1773,  the  schooner  Gaspee  was  station 
ed  at  Providence,  to  prevent  smuggling;  and  the  con 
duct  of  the  commander  having  exasperated  the  inhabit 
ants,  two  hundred  men  entered  on  board  the  schooner  at 

C 


XVlll  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

night,  and  compelled  the  captain  and  crew  to  go  ashore, 
and  then  set  fire  to  the  vessel.  The  government  offered 
a  reward  of  five  hundred  pounds,  for  the  apprehension 
of  any  of  the  persons  engaged  in  this  outrage;  but  such 
was  the  spirit  and  unanimity  of  the  people,  that  this 
pecuniary  inducement  produced  no  effect,  and  the  au 
thors  of  the  outrage  could  not  be  discovered.  About 
this  period,  the  letters  of  Governor  Hutchinson  and  Mr. 
Oliver,  to  their  friends  in  England,  urging  the  govern 
ment  to  adopt  more  decisive  and  vigorous  measures,  to 
coerce  the  colonies  into  submission,  were  discovered  and 
sent  back  to  America  by  Dr.  Franklin,  which,  being 
published  by  the  assembly  of  Massachusetts,  greatly 
contributed  to  inflame  the  public  mind,  and  exasperate 
the  people  against  these  officers  of  the  crown,  who  were 
justly  charged  with  having  shamefully  betrayed  their 
trust,  and  the  people,  whose  rights  it  was  their  duty 
vigilantly  to  guard.  Whilst  the  other  duties  were  re 
pealed,  that  on  tea  was  retained,  for  the  sole  and  avowed 
object  of  maintaining  the  power,  which  parliament  had 
asserted,  of  collecting  a  revenue  in  America.  The 
ministerial  scheme  was  cunning  and  artful;  but  did  not, 
in  the  least  degree,  deceive  the  vigilance  of  the  Ameri 
cans.  The  object  was  to  cheat  the  colonies  out  of  their 
rights,  by  collecting  an  indirect,  imperceptible  duty,  lit 
tle  more  than  nominal  in  amount,  which,  however,  if  ac 
quiesced  in,  would  have  been  a-n  admission  of  the  prin 
ciple  or  right  of  Britain  to  raise  a  revenue  in  America. 
It  was  an  attempt  to  obtain,  covertly  and  by  fraud> 
what  they  had  attempted,  but  failed  to  obtain,  openly 
by  force.  In  the  first  place,  measures  were  adopted, 
openly  and  explicitly,  for  taxing  the  colonies,  the  duties 
to  be  paid  directly  by  the  consumer;  but  being  unable 
to  enforce  this  act,  it  is  repealed,  accompanied  with  a 
declaration  of  the  right  of  parliament  to  tax  the  Amer 
icans,  in  all  cases  whatsoever.  This  naked  assertion 
of  a  right,  when  the  application  of  it  had  been  attemp 
ted  and  abandoned,  did  not  give  the  Americans  much 
concern:  they  would  not  have  cared,  if  the  British  had 
kept  that  assertion  of  a  right  to  do  wrong  on  their  stat 
ute-book,  as  long  as  the  two  countries  existed,  provi 
ded  they  had  not  attempted  to  exercise  their  assumed 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XIX 

right.  But  the  advocates  of  American  taxation  seemed 
to  be  sensible,  that  the  bare  assertion  of  a  right,  after 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  enforce  it  would  amount  to 
but  little,  and  that  conclusions,  obviously  following  the 
abandonment  of  the  first  attempt  to  tax  the  Americans, 
would  be  left  in  their  full  force.  Under  the  circumstan 
ces  in  which  the  two  countries  were  placed,  therefore, 
the  right  must  be  enforced,  or  it  must  be  considered  as 
virtually  abandoned.  But  this  had  been  once  attemp 
ted,  without  success;  a  more  ingenious  mode,  therefore, 
must  be  devised,  or  one  less  likely  to  give  alarm  to  the 
colonies.  The  stamp  duties  were  a  direct  t&x,  as  the 
duty  constituted  the  entire  value  of  the  sum  paid;  but  a 
trifling  impost  would  not  be  perceived,  as  the  dxity  would 
scarcely  make  any  sensible  difference  in  the  price  of 
the  article.  The  bitter  pill,  which  it  was  intended  to 
make  the  colonies  swallow,  was  gilded  with  sugar. 
The  duty  was  more  artfully  disguised,  than  a  simple 
impost.  It  was  in  fact,  no  additional  burden  on  the 
consumers  of  tea,  it  being  only  a  different  mode  of  col 
lecting  the  duty  which  had  before  been  paid;  yet  this 
alteration  of  the  mode  involved  the  right  and  power  of 
parliament  to  establish  a  revenue  system  in  America. 
According  to  the  former  regulations,  the  teas  of  the  In 
dia  Company  were  first  brought  to  England,  where  a 
duty  was  paid  before  they  were  sent  to  the  colonies. 
The  scheme  was  merely  to  change  the  place  and  mode 
of  collecting  the  duty;  it  was  to  be  paid  in  America, 
instead  of  England ;  for  which  purpose  custom  regula 
tions  were  established,  and  officers  appointed.  A  duty 
of  three  pence  on  a  pound  of  tea,  would  not  be  felt  by 
the  people,  and  this,  or  rather  a  greater  duty,  had  been 
paid  before  in  England;  so  that,  instead  of  the  burdens 
of  the  people  being  increased,  they  were  rather  light 
ened  by  this  new  regulation.  So  artfully  disguised  was 
this  scheme.  It  is  a  maxim  with  many  politicians,  and 
too  generally  correct,  that  the  people  will  not  be  alar 
med  or  excited  by  any  principle,  however  it  may  be 
fraught  with  danger;  that  they  must  feel  and  suffer,  be 
fore  their  fears  will  arouse  them  into  action.  But  this 
maxim  did  not  hold  true  with  the  Americans:  they  saw 


XX  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

the  danger,  and  resolved  to  resist,  at  the  hazard  of  their 
lives,  a  principle,  calculated  to  undermine  the  founda 
tion  of  their  liberties;  although  its  operation  at  the  time 
was  not  felt,  in  the  slightest  degree.  The  resistance  of 
the  Americans  to  the  scheme  of  collecting  a  duty  on  tea 
in  America,  instead  of  England,  was  the  risistance  of 
the  principle  which  that  scheme  involved,  solely;  as  no 
additional  burden  was  thereby  imposed  on  the  people. 
It  is  believed  that  this  is  the  only  instance  in  history,  of 
an  entire  people  being  roused  to  resistance,  from  meas- 
ores  which  were  not  burdensome  or  oppressive  in  their 
immediate  operations,  and  dangerous  only  from  the  prin 
ciple  on  which  they  were  founded.  This  consideration 
affords  the  highest  evidence  of  the  intelligence  of  the 
Americans,  as  well  as  of  their  extreme  jealousy  and 
vigilance,  in  guarding  their  rights.  That  the  experien 
ced  politician  should  foresee  the  ultimate  design  and 
tendency  of  measures,  not  immediately  oppressive,  is 
natural  enough;  but  that  the  common  people,  or  rather 
that  the  entire  population  of  a  country  should  be  aroused 
to  resistance,  on  account  of  measures  not  burdensome 
or  oppressive,  but  dangerous  only  from  the  principle  on 
which  they  were  founded,  is  unparalleled.  It  is  not, 
however,  to  be  supposed  that  the  colonists  would  have 
been  so  alarmed  and  aroused  to  such  a  spirit  of  resis 
tance,  by  the  new  regulations  as  to  tea,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  previous  measures  of  the  parent  country,  evin 
cing,  in  the  clearest  manner,  a  settled  design  to  exercise 
the  power  of  taxation  over  them.  They  considered  the 
new  regulations  as  to  tea,  as  an  artful  and  disguised  reve 
nue  system,  although  it  imposed  no  additional  duty,  and 
they  were  determined  not  to  be  cheated  out  of  their  lib 
erties,  as  they  had  before  resolved  not  to  be  frightened 
out  of  them. 

Measures  were  immediately  adopted  to  prevent  the 
introduction  of  the  tea  into  the  country,  so  as  to  avoid 
the  payment  of  the  duty  ;  and  such  was  the  strength  and 
unanimity  of  public  opinion,  that  without  the  aid  of  law, 
or  rather  in  opposition  to  law,  they  were  enabled  to  ren 
der  their  measures  efficient,  solely  by  the  force  of  public 
sentiment,  although  measures  of  all  others  the  most  dif- 


WHICH   LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XXI 

ficult  to  enforce,  as  interfering  both  with  the  interests 
and  the  established  habits  of  the  people.  In  most  of 
the  towns  from  New-Hampshire  to  Georgia,  the  people 
assembled  and  resolved  to  discontinue  the  use  of  tea, 
which  was  now  regarded  as  an  herb,  (however  agreea 
ble  as  a  beverage,)  noxious  to  the  political  constitution. 
In  the  large  commercial  towns,  regulations  w°,re  adop 
ted  to  prevent  the  landing  of  the  tea;  committees  were 
appointed  to  inspect  merchant's  books, propose  tests,  and 
to  make  use  of  other  means  to  defeat  the  designs  of  Brit 
ain.  Where  it  could  be  done,  the  consignees  of  the  teas, 
were  persuaded  or  compelled  to  resign,  or  to  bind  them 
selves  not  to  act  in  that  capacity.  The  cargo  sent  to 
South-Carolina,  was  stored,  the  consignees  being  con 
strained  to  enter  into  an  engagement  not  to  offer  any  for 
sale ;  and  in  many  of  the  colonies,  the  ships  were  compel 
led  to  return  without  discharging  their  cargoes.  So  vig 
orously  were  these  measures  enforced,  that  during  one 
year,  eighty-five  pounds  was  the  whole  amount  of  du 
ties  received.  The  teas  consumed  in  the  colonies,  were 
principally  smuggled  into  the  country,  by  the  Dutch  and 
French,  who  were  favored  by  the  inhabitants  in  evading 
the  revenue  laws.  During  the  four  or  five  years  that 
the  new  system  had  been  in  existence,  very  trifling  quan 
tities  of  teas  had  been  introduced  into  the  colonies,  and 
instead  of  the  restrictive  measures  being  relaxed  as  was 
expected  in  England,  they  increased  in  vigor  and  effi 
cacy,  and  the  quantity  of  tea  introduced  had  constantly 
diminished. 

As  had  been  the  case  with  other  matters,  of  differ 
ence  between  the  two  countries,  the  principal  struggle, 
growing  out  of  the  regulations  as  to  tea,  occurred  at 
Boston.  The  other  provinces  had  avoided  the  alterna 
tive  which  was  reserved  for  this,  of  either  suffering  the 
teas  to  be  disposed  of,  or  to  destroy  them,  by  violent 
means.  Knowing  the  spirit  of  the  inhabitants  of  Boston, 
the  India  Company  had  been  more  cautious  as  to  the 
cargoes  shipped  for  that  port,  than  those  sent  to  the 
other  provinces;  and  the  zeal  of  Governor  Hutchinson 
and  the  other  officers  of  the  crown  there,  greatly  sur 
passed  that  of  the  crown-officers  in  the  other  colonies, 


XX11  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

and  was  calculated  to  frustrate  the  measures  of  the  in 
habitants.  The  tea  ships  destined  to  Boston,  were  all 
consigned  to  the  sons,  cousins,  and  persons  who  were 
the  merest  tools  of  Governor  Hutchinson.  When  called 
on  to  resign,  the  only  answer  they  would  give  was,  "that 
it  was  not  in  their  power."  As  the  consignees  could  not 
be  induced  or  frightened  to  resign,  the  next  plan  was,  to 
compel  the  vessels  to  return  without  landing  their  de 
testable  cargoes;  but  the  collector  refused  to  give  a 
clearance  without  the  vessels  were  discharged  of  dutia 
ble  articles,  and  the  governor  refused  to  give  a  pass  for 
the  vessels,  until  they  were  properly  qualified  from  the 
custom-house;  and  to  guard  against  the  vessels  being 
taken  possession  of,  and  conducted  out  of  the  harbour, 
the  governor  ordered  Admiral  Montague,  who  com 
manded  the  naval  force,  to  keep  vigilant  look  out,  and 
to  suffer  no  vessel,  coasters  excepted,to  pass  the  fortress 
from  the  town  without  a  pass  signed  by  himself.  The 
rigorous  adherence  to  these  measures,  afforded  great 
satisfaction  to  the  governor  and  his  minions,  and  all  the 
British  party;  they  flattered  themselves  that  the  "Sons 
of  Liberty,"  after  all  their  clamour,  resolutions  and 
schemes  to  resist  the  tea  system,  were  out-managed,  and 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  prevent  the  land 
ing  and  sale  of  the  obnoxious  cargoes.  Their  meas 
ures  had  been  planned  so  wisely  and  their  execution 
was  entrusted  to  agents  of  such  known  fidelity  to  the 
crown,  and  who  were  under  the  immediate  influence 
and  control  of  the  governor,  they  thought  there  was  not 
a  loop-hole  whereby  the  rebellious  Americans  could 
escape  paying  the  hateful  tax.  They  did  not  even 
dream  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  destroy  or 
throw  overboard  the  offensive  article,  which  covered  a 
tribute  to  Britain ;  for  if  they  had,  the  vessels  would 
have  been  guarded.  The  governor,  after  all  he  had 
witnessed  and  experienced,  judging  rather  from  his  feel 
ings  than  his  knowledge,  was  entirely  ignorant  of  public 
sentiment,  and  of  the  spirit  of  the  people;  he  had  no 
idea  that  they  had  determined  to  resist  the  obnoxious 
measure,  at  every  hazard,  even  that  of  life.  Nothing 
short  of  this  bold  step,  could  prevent  the  deep-laid 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XX111 

scheme,  against  the  liberties  of  the  country  from  suc 
ceeding.  It  had  been  rendered  impossible  that  the  ves 
sels  should  return  with  their  cargoes;  and  to  suffer  the 
tea  to  be  landed  and  trust  to  the  spirit  and  unanimity  of 
the  inhabitants  not  to  purchase  it,  would  have  been  to 
yield  the  point ;  for  a  small  portion  of  the  citizens  were 
in  favour  of  the  British,  and  would  of  course  consume 
the  article,  and  by  fair  means  or  foul,  it  would  have  been 
distributed  among  others.  And  it  would  have  been 
equally  impracticable  to  prevent  the  tea  from  being 
landed;  the  most  unwearied  watching  day  and  night, 
could  not  prevent  this,  as  it  might  be  conveyed  ashore, 
by  small  quantities  in  boats  in  the  night  season,  and  at 
such  places  as  to  escape  the  utmost  vigilance.  Every 
other  measure  had  been  attempted  without  success — 
the  consignees  had  been  urged  to  decline  the  commis 
sion,  and  a  numerous  public  meeting  of  the  citizens  had 
been  held,  who  presented  a  remonstrance  to  the  govern 
or,  and  urged  him  to  order  back  the  ships  without  suffer 
ing  any  part  of  their  cargoes  to  be  landed.  But  his 
answer  satisfied  them  that  he  was  the  adviser  of  the 
measure,  and  determined  to  carry  it  into  execution. — 
The  parties  were  at  issue  on  the  great  question  on 
which  the  liberties  of  the  country  hung  suspended; 
whether  Great  Britain  should  exercise  the  power  of 
taxing  the  Americans  in  any  way,  or  not.  This  ques 
tion  depended  on  the  landing  of  a  few  cargoes  of  lea, 
which  had  become  contaminated  with  an  unconstitution 
al  tax.  The  colonists  were  determined  that  they  would 
not  pay  the  tax,  and  the  British  party  were  determined 
to  carry  into  effect  the  tea  regulation,  and  to  frustrate 
the  plans  of  the  Americans.  Both  parties  had  taken 
their  measures,  and  the  British  party  were  confident  of 
success;  the  contest  was  advancing  to  a  crisis;  alarm 
and  dismay  prevailed ;  the  deepest  anxiety  was  depict 
ed  in  every  countenance;  had  an  invading  army  been 
in  the  neighbourhood,  threatening  to  sack  the  town,  or 
had  the  pestilence  which  walks  in  darkness,  ravaged  its 
pavilions,  greater  consternation  could  not  have  prevail 
ed;  greater  gloom  could  not  overspread  the  town,  or 
stronger  indications  been  exhibited,  of  a  pending  event 


XXIV  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

big  with  the  fate  of  three  millions  of  people.  During 
this  deep  and  awful  suspense,  a  report  was  started, 
which  spread  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  through  the 
town,  that  Admiral  Montague  was  about  to  seize  the 
ships  and  dispose  of  their  cargoes,  at  public  auction, 
within  twenty-four  hours;  which  was  believed  to  be  a 
cunning  device  of  Hutchinson,  as  this  would  as  effectu 
ally  have  secured  the  duties,  as  if  the  teas  had  been 
sold  at  the  stores  of  the  consignees.  This  rumour  was 
like  an  electric  shock;  leaving  their  employments,  the 
people  rushed  into  the  streets,  and  with  amazed  and 
terrified  countenances,  every  one  seemed  to  say,  what 
shall  we  do  to  prevent  the  consummation  in  so  bold  and 
daring  a  manner,  of  this  iniquitous  scheme.  In  a  few 
moments,  as  if  from  an  instinctive  impulse,  a  vast  crowd 
repaired  to  one  of  the  most  spacious  churches  in  Bos 
ton,  and  organised  themselves  into  a  public  meeting. 
Previously  to  taking  any  other  step,  a  message  was  sent 
to  the  governor  and  the  consignees,  who  with  difficulty 
could  be  found,  as  they  were  afraid  to  encounter  even 
the  looks  of  an  indignant  and  injured  people.  No  sat 
isfactory  answers  were  returned;  but  instead  of  com 
plying  with  their  wishes,  whilst  the  assembled  multitude 
were  quietly,  notwithstanding  the  excitet.  ent  which 
prevailed,  consulting  on  their  critical  situation,  and  the 
measures  proper  to  be  adopted,  the  sheriff  entered  with 
an  order  from  the  governor,  styling  them  an  illegal  and 
seditious  assembly,  and  ordering  them  immediately  to 
disperse.  But  he  did  not  bring  with  him  the  posse  comi- 
tatus,  as  the  power  of  the  county  was  already  assem 
bled,  and  it  was  that,  the  sheriff  was  ordered  to  disperse : 
this  mandate  was  treated  with  deserved  contempt  and 
the  sheriff  hissed  out  of  the  house,  mortified  and  cha 
grined,  and  a  confused  murmur  followed  not  only  in  the 
house  but  among  the  vast  multitude  without;  but  soon 
order  was  restored,  and  the  meeting  adjourned,  without 
adopting  any  vote  or  resolution.  The  leaders  probably 
supposed  that  such  a  meeting  was  not  the  place  to  dis 
cuss  and  devise  measures  to  meet  the  crisis. 

The  bold  measure  was  now  conceived,  and   immedi 
ately  proposed  for  execution,  which  surprised  and  agita- 


\THICftLED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XXV 

ted  the  two  countries,  and  hurried  on  that  memorable 
revolution  which  m;ide  them  "enemies  in  war,  rind  in 
peace  friends."  The  success  of  it,  as  well  as  the  danger 
attending  it,  required  secrecy  and  despatch.  It  has 
never  been  known  with  certainty,  either  who  contrived 
or  executed  this  bold  expedient ;  but  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt,  but  that  Mr. Samuel  Adams  and  many  of  the 
leaders  in  the  political  affairs  of  the  day,  were  its  con 
trivers,  and  it  is  known,  that  the  hall  of  council  was  in 
the  back  room  of  Edes  &  Gill's  printing  office,  at  the 
corner  of  the  alley  leading  from  Court-Street  to  Brattle 
Street  Church.  It  is  a  singular  circumstance,  that  this 
daring  and  desperate  measure,  for  the  maintenance  of 
the  liberties  of  the  country,  should  have  been  counselled 
and  contrived  in  an  editorial  closet  of  a  newspaper, 
which  was  one  of  the  organs  of  the  public  voice,  and  a 
vigilant  sentinel  of  the  liberties  of  the  people.  Since 
this  period  many  political  schemes  have  originated,  in 
the  uback  rooms"  of  printing  offices,  but  in  general  of  a 
very  different  character. 

In  a  few  hours  after  the  adjournment  of  the  public 
meeting,  the  bold  measure,  on  the  success  of  which  the 
great  question  of  taxation  hung  suspended,  was  contri 
ved,  matured  and  ripened  for  execution;  and  the  public 
were  surprised  with  the  sudden  appearance  in  the 
streets,  of  a  large  number  of  savages,  or  persons  disguised, 
clad,  and  every  way  counterfeiting  the  aborigines  of 
the  country;  armed  with  a  tomahawk  in  one  hand,  and 
a  club  over  the  shoulder,  who,  in  a  silent  and  solemn 
manner,  not  a  voice  being  heard,  marched  in  Indian  file, 
through  the  streets  amidst  a  crowd  of  astonished  specta 
tors,  who  knew  not  what  to  think  of  so  unexpected  and 
strange  an  exhibition;  and  its  novelty  and  the  surprise 
which  it  occasioned,  may  have  prevented  any  steps 
being  taken  to  oppose  their  design.  The  Indians,  whilst 
strongly  attached  to  tobacco,  in  this  instance  at  least 
appeared  to  have  had  a  mortal  antipathy  to  tea;  and  as 
though  attracted  by  its  noxious  qualities,  they  proceeded 
directly  towards  the  wharves  where  the  tea  ships  lay; 
boarded  them,  demanded  the  keys,  and  without  the  least 
hesitation  or  delay,  knocked  open  the  chests. and  emptied 

D 


XXVI  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF    THE  CAUSES 

their  contents,  duties  and  all,  into  the  ocean,  comprising 
several  thousand  weight  of  the  finest  teas.  The  deed 
was  done  in  the  face  of  the  world,  and  although  sur 
rounded  by  the  king's  ships,  no  opposition  was  made  or 
attempted;  all  was  silence  and  amazement.  Thus  the 
teas  which  were  designed  as  a  means  of  extorting  tribute 
from  the  Americans,  become  an  offering  to  the  "spirits 
of  the  vasty  deep,"  and  a  sacrifice  to  the  liberties  of 
the  country.  The  "Indians"  having  effected  their  ob 
ject,  showed  no  marks  of  triumph;  no  savage  warwhoop 
was  heard;  nor  did  they  commit  any  other  violence  or 
disorder,  but  in  the  same  silent,  solemn  and  orderly 
manner,  marched  back  through  the  town,  followed  by  a 
vast  crowd.  No  movements  on  the  part  of  the  govern 
ment,  or  disturbance  by  the  people,  followed  this  event; 
and  it  was  observed  at  the  time,  tr«at  the  stillest  night 
succeeded,  which  Boston  had  enjoyed  for  several 
months. 

No  persons  assisted  the  savages,  in  the  destruction 
of  the  tea,  except  some  boys  or  young  men,  who  had 
assembled  on  the  occasion,  and  voluntarily  took  a  part 
in  what  was  going  on;  ane  of  these  youths,  collected 
the  tea  which  fell  into  his  own  shoes  and  those  of  sev 
eral  of  his  companions,  put  it  in  a  phial  and  sealed  it  up ; 
which  is  now  in  his  possession,  containing  the  same  ob 
noxious  tea,  which  in  this  instance  was  considered  as 
more  dangerous  to  the  political  health  and  constitution  of 
the  people,  even  than  strong  drink.  The  number  of  the 
savages,  manufactured  for  the  occasion,  has  be«n  vari 
ously  estimated,  from  sixty  to  eighty:  although  several 
persons  have  been  mentioned  as  among  the  number,  none 
of  them  have  ever  been  known  with  certainty;  there 
are  many  and  obvious  reasons,  why  secrecy  then,  and 
concealment  since  were  necessary.  Not  any  of  those 
who  it  has  been  confidently  asserted  were  of  the  party, 
have  admitted  the  fact  except  some  of  the  boys.  Nearly 
all  of  the  disguised  persons  have  left  this  scene  of  strife, 
and  their  secret  has  died  with  them;  and  what  few  re 
main,  if  any,  will  probably  be  as  prudent  as  those  who 
have  gone  before  them,  and  like  them  will  suffer  their 
knowledge  to  be  buried  with  them^  so  that  the  great 


WHICH  LED  TO   THE  AMERICAN  REVOLt  TIO>\         XXV4.1 

secret  will  shortly  be  beyond  the  reach  of  human  re 
search.  The  success  of  this  bold  and  daring  measure, 
astonished  Governor  Hutchioson  and  the  British  pa 
and  seemed  to  convince  him.  that  theuSonsof  Liberty" 
were  not  quite  so  contemptible  as  he  had  represented 
them  in  his  letters  to  the  ministry;  and  it  even  aston 
ished  the  whigs,  in  the  other  colonies,  and  contributed 
to  fan  the  flames  of  liberty,  and  give  them  a  deeper 
glow,  and  more  intense  heat, 

\V.ien  the  intelligence  of  this  evest  reached  England, 
accompanied  with  all  the  __eration  and  colouring 
which  Hutchtnson  could  give  to  it,  it  produced  the  ut 
most  excitement,  and  indignation  with  the  ministerial 
party,  and  even  the  opponents  of  the  American  revenue 

em.  could  not  justify  so  rash  and  desperate  a  me 
ore.  Parliament  at  once  determined  to  crush  the  de 
voted  town,  which  was  the  seat  and  cause  of  this  high 
handed  resistance  to  its  supremacy.  Its  omnipotent 
power,  and  all  the  terrors  of  its  wrath,  were  to  be  con 
centrated  and  directed  against  this  rebellious  town.  A 
bill  was  immediately  introduced  to  "discontinue  the 
landing  and  discharging,  landing  and  shipping  of  goods, 
wares  and  merchandise,  at  the  town  of  Boston,  or  with- 
in  the  harbor."  Thk>  bill,  called  the  uBoston  Port  Bill," 
passed  on  the  25th  of  March,  1774*  and  when  it 
known,  threw  the  inhabitants  into  the  utmost  consterna 
tion.  A  general  meeting  was  called,  and  spirited  reso 
lutions  adopted%expressive.  in  strong  terms,  of  their  sense 
of  the  oppressive  measure. aiid  they  requested  all  the 
colonies  to  unite  in  an  engagement  to  discontinue  all 
importations  from  Great  Britain ;  and  most  of  the  colo 
nies  resolved  to  make  common  cause  with  Massachu 
setts,  in  her  opposition  to  the  unconstitutional  measures 
of  parliament.  The  first  of  Jane,  when  the  port  bill 
was  to  go  into  operation,  was  appointed  to  be  kept  as  a 
of  fasting  and  prayer.  This  act  was  soon  followed 
by  another,  ~for  the  better  regulating  government  in  the 
province  of  Massachusetts  Bay :"  the  object  of  which 
was  to  alter  the  charter,  so  as  to  make  the  judges  and 
sheriffs  dependant  on  the  king,  and  removeable  at  his 
pleasure.  And  this  act  was  soon  succeeded  by  another, 


XXVlll  A  BUMMBRY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

which  provided,  that,  any  persons  indicted  for  murder, 
or  other  capital  offence,  committed  in  aiding  the  ma 
gistrates,  in  enforcing  the  laws,  might  be  sent  by  the 
governor  either  to  any  other  colony,  or  to  Great  Britain 
forhistrtal.  The  Quebec  Bill  followed  in  rapid  suc 
cession,  enlarging  the  bound  of  that  province,  and  con 
ferring  many  privileges  on  the  Roman  Catholics;  the 
design  of  which  was  to  secure  the  attachment  of  that 
province,  and  prevent  its  joining  with  the  colonies  in 
their  measures  of  resistance.  These  measures  instead 
of  intimidating  the  colonies  into  submission,  only  con 
firmed  their  fears  of  the  settled  designs  of  Great  Brit 
ain  to  deprive  them  of  their  chartered  rights,  and  reduce 
the  colonies  to  the  lowest  state  of  political  degradation 
and  oppression.  A  sense  of  common  danger  led  to  an 
extensive  correspondence,  which  resulted  in  the  opinion 
that  it  was  expedient  to  convene  a  general  congress,  to 
consist  of  deputies  from  all  the  colonies.  This  congress 
met  at  Philadelphia  on  the  5th  of  September,  1774;  and 
comprised  among  its  members,  some  of  the  most  distin 
guished  patriots,  statesmen  and  orators  in  the  country, 
or  perhaps  in  any  other.  Notwithstanding  the  ferment 
which  prevailed  in  most  of  the  colonies,  their  proceed 
ings  were  characterised  by  collness,  unanimity  and 
firmness. 

They  published  a  long  and  solemn  declaration  of 
rights,  as  British  subjects,  and  maintained  in  the  stron 
gest  terms,  their  exemption  from  taxation  by  parliament: 
besides  which,  they  prepared  a  petition  to  the  king, 
which  was  refused  to  be  answered;  an  address  to  the 
people  of  Great  Britain,  and  another  to  the  people  of 
America.  These  documents  were  drawn  up  with  a 
masterly  hand,  and  exhibited  great  dignity  and  ability, 
and  were  in  every  respect  worthy  of  the  men  who  had 
confided  to  them  the  liberties  of  their  country,  and  the 
destinies  of  three  millions  of  their  countrymen,  threat 
ened  with  slavery. 

The  proceedings  of  congress  did  not  tend  to  allay 
public  feeling,  and  as  the  royal  agents  in  Massachusetts 
seemed  determined  to  push  matters  to  extremities,  and 
reduce  the  people  to  unconditional  submission,  by  arbi- 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.          XXIX 

trary  and  forcible  means,  every  thing  now  wore  the  ap 
pearance  of  civil  war.  A  new  council,  and  new  judges 
were  appointed  by  the  crown ;  and  the  latter  attempted 
to  enter  upon  the  execution  of  their  offices;  but  the 
juries  refused  to  be  sworn  under  them;  the  people  in 
some  counties  assembled  to  prevent  their  proceedings, 
and  in  Berkshire  succeeded,  thus  setting  an  example, 
which  was  afterwards  followed  by  Shays'  men,  in  viola 
tion  of  the  laws  of  the  state.  About  this  time  the  fa 
mous  "Tree  of  Liberty,"  in  Boston,  which  had  been 
pruned  and  ornamented  with  so  much  pride  and  care, 
"fell  a  victim  to  British  vengeance,  or  to  some  individual 
to  whom  its  shade  had  become  offensive." 

Previously  to  this  period,  General  Gage  had  succeed 
ed  Hutchinson  as  Goveror  of  Massachusetts;  and,  ap 
prehending  danger  from  a  general  muster  of  the  militia, 
he  caused  the  magazines  and  ammunition  at  Charles- 
town  and  Cambridge,  to  be  removed  to  Boston,  and 
fortified  the  neck  of  land  which  joins  Boston  to  the  main 
land,  at  Roxbury.  These  measures  occasioned  an  uni 
versal  panic; delegates  from  all  the  towns  in  the  county 
of  Suffolk  met,  and  spirited  resolutions,  and  a  remon 
strance  to  the  governor,  were  adoped.  The  general 
assembly  had  been  summoned  to  meet  at  Salem;  but 
from  the  turbulence  of  the  times,  the  governor  issued  his 
proclamation,  countermanding  their  meeting;  yet,  in 
defiance  of  the  governor's  mandate,  ninety  members 
met,  resolved  themselves  into  a  provincial  congress, 
chose  Mr.  Hancock  president,  and  adjourned  to  Con 
cord,  nineteen  miles  from  Boston,  They  fearlessly  pro 
ceeded  to  business;  after  addressing  the  governor,  and 
reiterating  their  grievances;  in  the  face  of  British  law 
and  British  troops,  they  proceed  to  adopt  the  first  meas 
ures,  which  were  taken,  directly  and  avowedly  prepara 
tory  to  an  appeal  to  the  sword,  in  defence  of  their  rights 
and  liberties;  they  regulated  the  militia,  made  provis 
ion  for  furnishing  the  people  with  arms,  and  for  supplying 
the  treasury;  and  such  was  the  enthusiasm  of  the  peo 
ple,  that  their  recommendations  had  the  force  of  law. 
Governor  Gage  was  tilled  with  rage  at  these  daring 
proceedings,  and  issued  a  proclamation,  in  which  he 
insinuated  that  they  amounted  to  rebellion. 


XXX  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THE  CAUSES 

Early  in  1775,  parliament  passed  the  fishery  bills, 
which  prohibited  the  colonies  from  trading  in  fish  with 
Great  Britain,  Ireland  and  the  West  Indies,  and  from 
taking  fish  on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland.  These  acts 
were  intended  to  operate  on  the  town  of  Boston,  which 
had  become  the  devoted  object  of  ministerial  wrath. 
The  various  statues,  which  were  passed,  occasioned 
deep  and  general  distress  in  Boston  and  its  vicinity;  but 
their  brethren  in  the  other  colonies  sympathized  with 
them,  and  promptly  supplied  them  with  provisions  of 
every  description  for  the  relief  of  the  sufferers. 

This  policy  of  the  British  government  was  not  only 
oppressive,  but  mean  and  contemptible.  Partial  legis^ 
lation  is  always  odious  and  tyrannical ;  yet  it  consisted 
with  the  justice  and  dignity  of  the  British  nation;  and 
a  series  of  acts  were  passed,  and  the  power  of  the  na 
tion  exerted,  to  crush  the  town  of  Boston,  because  it  had 
shewn  a  more  determined  spirit  of  resistance  to  their 
oppressive  and  unconstitutional  measures  than  had  ap 
peared  in  other  places.  The  ministry  were  not  sensi 
ble  that  the  colonies  considered  themselves  all  engaged 
in  a  common  cause ;  they  were  in  hopes  to  humble  and 
crush  the  rebellious  inhabitants  of  that  devoted  town, 
which  they  thought  would  be  such  a  terrific  example  as 
would  frighten  all  the  colonies  into  submission.  But 
their  wicked  designs  recoiled  on  the  heads  of  their  au 
thors;  for  these  oppressive  measures  towards  the  Bos- 
tonians,  only  served  to  exasperate  the  people  throughout 
all  the  colonies,  who  regarded  them  as  cruel  and  de 
testable. 

In  March  1775,  the  public  indignation  was  greatly 
excited  by  the  following  base  and  most  shameful  trans* 
actions: — 

'The  people  from  the  country,  whose  business  called 
them  into  Boston,  were  suspected  by  the  officers  of  pur 
chasing  guns  from  their  soldiers.  In  order  to  furnish  an 
opportunity  to  inflict  punishment,  ami  to  raise  occasion 
for  a  serious  quarrel,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Nesbit,  of  the 
forty-seventh  regiment,  ordered  a  soldier  to  offer  a  coun 
tryman  an  old  rusty  musket.  A  man  from  Billerica  was 
caught  by  this  bait,  and  purchased  the  gun  for  three  dol- 


WHICH  LED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.  XXXI 

lars.  The  unfortunate  man  was  immediately  seized  by 
Nesbit  and  confined  in  the  guard  house  all  night.  Early 
next  morning  they  stripped  him  entirely  naked,  covered 
him  over  with  warm  tar,  and  then  with  feathers,  placed 
him  on  a  cart  and  conducted  him  through  the  streets  as 
far  as  liberty-tree,  where  the  people  began  to  collect  in 
vast  numbers,  and  the  military,  fearing  for  their  own 
safety,  dismissed  the  man,  and  retreated  to  their  bar 
racks.  The  party  consisted  of  about  thirty  grenadiers, 
with  fixed  bayonets,  twenty  drums  and  fifes  playing  the 
rogue's  inarch,  headed  by  the  redoubtable  Nesbit  with 
a  drawn  sword!  What  an  honorable  deed  for  a  British 
field  officer  and  grenadiers!  The  selectmen  of  Billerica 
remonstrated  with  General  Gage  respecting  this  outrage, 
but  obtained  no  satisfaction.'* 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  following  ludicrous 
occurrence  took  place: — 

"Some  British  officers,  soon  after  Gage's  arrival  in 
Boston,  walking  on  Beacon  Hill,  after  sunset,  were  af 
frighted  by  noises  in  the  air,  (supposed  to  be  flying  bugs 
and  beetles,)  which  they  took  to  be  the  sound  of  bullets. 
They  left  the  hill  with  great  precipitation,  spread  the 
alarm  in  their  encampment,  and  wrote  terrible  accounts 
to  England  of  being  shot  at  with  air-guns,  as  appeared 
by  their  letters,  extracts  of  which  were  soon  after  pub 
lished  in  London  papers.  Indeed,  for  some  time  they 
really  believed  that  the  Americans  were  possessed  of 
a  kind  of  magic  white  powder,  which  exploded  and 
killed  without  a  report."  In  that  much  celebrated  and 
admirable  poem  of  the  day,  M'Fingal,  the  circumstance 
is  thus  satirized: 

"  No  more  the  British  colonel  runs 
From  whizzing  beetles  as  air  guns; 
Thinks  horn-bugs,  bullets,  or  through  fear 
Musketoes  takes  for  musketeers; 
Nor  'scapes,  as  if  you'd  gain'd  supplies 
From  Beelzebub's  whole  host  of  flies, 
No  bug  these  warlike  hearts  appals 
They  better  know  the  sound  of  balls." 

The  breach  between  Britain  and  the  colonies  had  now 
become  so  wide,  as  with  the  mass  of  the  people,  nearly 

'Thacher's  Military  Journat. 


XXX II  A  SUMMARY  VIEW  OF  THF  CAUSES 

to  exclude  all  ideas  of  conciliation;  and  both  parties 
began  to  make  preparations  for  an  appeal  to  the  sword. 
No  alternative  was  left  the  Americans  but  slavery,  or 
resistance  by  force;  measures  were  adopted  for  training 
the  militia  to  the  use  of  arms,  to  encourage  the  manu 
facture  of  gun-powder,  and  for  collecting  all  kinds  of 
military  stores;  and  committees  of  public  safety  were 
appointed  in  all  the  towns  in  the  province.  The  Brit 
ish  government  sent  out  a  re-inforcement  of  troops  to 
Boston,  and  in  the  mean  time  Gevernor  Gage  attempted 
to  counteract  the  designs  and  measures  of  the  provin 
cials,  and  particularly  to  sieze  or  destroy  their  military 
stores,  and  thus  to  deprive  them  of  the  means  of  resis 
tance.  To  destroy  the  military  stores  at  Concord,  Gen. 
Gage  despatched  in  a  secret  manner,  a  regiment  of 
grenadiers,  who  undertook  to  disperse,  and  fired  upon  a 
party  of  militia  at  Lexington,  several  of  whom  were 
killed,  which  was  the  first  blood  spilt  in  that  memorable 
war  and  revolution,  that  separated  Great  Britain  and 
America  forever;  and  gave  to  the  latter  not  only  a  rank 
among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  but  what  only  can  ex 
alt  a  nation — LIBERTY  and  free  institutions,  which  are 
the  durable  foundations  of  its  glory  and  rising  prosperity ; 
its  tranquility  and  happiness,  its  increasing  population 
and  wealth,  the  rapidity  of  which  is  unexampled  in  the 
annals  of  the  world. 


THE 

AMERICAN  MILITARY  BIOGRAPHY 

OF 

THE  OFFICERS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


ETHAN  ALLEX, 

Brigadier  General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  ALLEN  was  born  in  Salisbury,  Conn,  from 
whence,  while  he  was  yet  young,  his  parents  emigrated 
to  Vermont.  By  this  circumstance  he  was  deprived  of 
the  advantages  of  an  early  education.  But,  although 
he  never  felt  its  genial  influence,  nature  had  endowed 
him  with  strong  powers  of  mind;  and  when  called  to 
take  the  field,  he  showed  himself  an  able  leader,  and  an 
intrepid  soldier. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  disturbances  in  Vermont, 
about  the  year  1770,  he  took  a  most  active  part  in  favor 
of  the  Green  Mountain  Boys,  as  the  first  settlers  were 
then  called,  in  opposition  to  the  government  of  New 
York.  Bold,  enterprising,  and  ambitious,  he  undertook 
to  direct  the  proceedings  of  the  inhabitants,  and  wrote 
several  pamphlets  to  display  :he  supposed  injustice  and 
oppressive  designs  of  the  Nev  York  proceedings.  The 
uncultivated  roughness  of  his  own  temper  and  manners, 
seems  to  have  assisted  him  in  giving  a  just  description 
of  the  views  and  proceedings  of  speculating  land-job 
bers.  His  writings  produced  effects  so  hostile  to  the 
views  of  the  state  of  New  York,  that  an  act  of  out-lawry 
was  passed  against  him,  aad  five  hundred  guineas  were 
offered  for  his  apprehension.  But  his  party  was  too 
numerous  and  faithful  to  permit  him  to  be  disturbed  by 
any  apprehensions  for  his  safety.  In  all  the  struggles 
of  the  day  he  was  successful,  and  proved  a  valuable 
friend  to  those  whose  cause  he  had  espoused. 


34  ETHAN    ALLEN. 

The  news  of  the  battle  of  Lexington  determined  Allen 
to  engage  on  tlie  side  of  his  country, and  inspired  him  with 
the  desire  of  demonstrating  his  attachment  to  liberty,  by 
some  bold  exploit.  While  in  this  state  of  mind,  a  plan 
for  taking  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  by  surprise, 
which  was  formed  by  several  gentlemen  in  Connecticut, 
was  communicated  to  him,,and  he  readily  engaged  in 
the  project.  Receiving  directions  from  the  General 
Assembly  of  Connecticut,  to  raise  the  Green  Mountain 
Boys,  and  conduct  the  enterprise,  he  collected  230  of 
the  hardy  settlers,  and  proceeded  to  Castleton.  Here 
lie  was  unexpectedly  joined  by  Col.  Arnold,  who  had 
been  commissioned  by  the  Massachusetts  committee  to 
raise  400  men,  and  effect  the  same  object  which  was 
now  about  to  be  accomplished.  They  reached  the  lake 
opposite  Ticonderoga,  on  the  evening  of  the  9th  of  May, 
1775.  With  the  utmost  difficulty  boats  were  procured, 
and  eighty-three  men  were  landed  near  the  garrison. 
Arnold  now  wished  to  assume  the  command,  to  lead  on 
the  men,  and  swore  that  he  would  go  in  himself  the  first. 
Allen  swore  that  he  should  not.  The  dispute  beginning 
to  run  high,  some  of  the  gentlemen  present  interposed, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  both  should  go  in  together,  Allen 
on  the  right  hand,  and  Arnold  on  the  left.  The  follow* 
ing  is  Allen's  own  account  of  the  affair: — 

4t  The  first  systematical  and  bloody  attempt  at  Lex 
ington,  to  enslave  America, thoroughly  electrified  my 
mind,  and  fully  determined  me  to  take  a  part  with  my 
country.  And  while  I  w?ts  wishing  for  an  opportunity 
to  signalize  myself  in  its  behalf,  directions  were  private 
ly  sent  to  me  from  the  then  colony,  now  state  of  Con 
necticut,  to  raise  the  Green  Mountain  Boys,  and  if 
possible  with  them  to  surprise  and  take  the  ifortress  of 
Ticonderoga.  This  enterprise  I  cheerfully  undertook; 
and  after  first  guarding  all  the  several  passes  that  lead 
thither,  to  cut  off  all  intelligence  between  the  garrison 
and  the  country,  made  a  forced  march  from  Bennington, 
and  arrived  at  the  lake  opposite  Ticonderoga,  on  the 
evening  of  the  9th  day  of  May,  1775,  with  two  hun 
dred  and  thirty  valiant  Green  Mountain  Boys;  and  it 
was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  1  procured  boats  to 


ETHAN    ALLEN.  35 

cross  the  lake.  However  I  landed  eighty-three  men 
near  the  garrison,  and  sent  the  boats  back  for  tiie  rea* 
guard,  commanded  by  Col. Seth  Warner;  but  the  day 
began  to  dawn,  and  I  found  myself  necessitated  to  attack 
the  fort, before  the  rear  could  crossthe  lake; and  asit  was 
viewed  hazardous,  I  harangued  the  officers  and  soldiers 
in  the  manner  following; — "  Friends  and  fellow-soldiers. 
You  have,  for  a  number  of  years  past,  been  a  scourge 
and  terror  to  arbitrary  powers.  Your  valour  has  been 
famed  abroad,  and  acknowledged,  as  appears  by  the  ad 
vice  and  orders  to  me  from  the  general  assembly  of  Con 
necticut,  to  surprise  and  take  the  garrison  now  before 
us.  I  now  propose  to  advance  before  you,  and  in  person 
conduct  you  through  the  wicket  gate;  for  we  must  this 
morning  either  quit  our  pretensions  to  valour,  or  possess- 
ourselves  of  this  fortress  in  a  few  minutes;  and  inasmuch 
as  it  is  a  desperate  attempt,  which  none  but  the  bravest 
of  men  dare  undertake,  I  do  not  urge  it  on  any  contrary 
to  his  will.  You  that  will  undertake  voluntarily,  poise 
your  firelock." 

"  The  men  being  at  this  time  drawn  up  in  three  ranks, 
each  poised  his  firelock.  I  ordered  them  to  face  to  the 
right;  and  at  the  head  of  the  centre  file  marched  them 
immediately  to  the  wicket  gate  aforesaid,  where  I  found 
a  sentry  posted,  who  instantly  snapped  his  fusee  at  me. 
I  ran  immediately  towards  him,  and  he  retreated  through 
the  covered  way  into  the  parade  within  the  garrison, 
gave  a  halloo,  and  ran  under  a  bomb  proof.  My  party 
who  followed  me  into  the  fort,  I  formed  on  the  parade 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  face  the  barracks  which  faced 
each  other.  The  garrison  being  asleep,  except  the  sen 
tries,  we  gave  three  huzzas,  which  greatly  surprised 
them.  One  of  the  sentries  made  a  pass  at  one  of  my 
officers  with  a  charged  bayonet,  and  slightly  wounded 
him.  My  first  thought  was  to  kill  him  with  my  sword, 
but  in  an  instant  I  altered  the  design  and  fury  of  the 
blow  to  a  slight  cut  on  the  side  of  the  head;  upon  which 
he  dropped  his  gun  and  asked  quarters,  which  I  readily 
granted  him;  and  demanded  the  place  where  the  com 
manding  officer  kept.  He  showed  me  a  pair  of  stairs 
ia  the  front  of  the  garrison,  which  led  up  to  a  second 


30  ETHAN    ALLEN. 

story  in  said  barracks,  to  which  I  immediately  repaired, 
and  ordered  the  commander,  Captain  Delaplace  to  come 
forth  instantly,  or  I  would  sacrifice  the  whole  garrison : 
At  which  time  the  captain  came  immediately  to  the 
door,  with  his  breeches  in  his  hand,  when  I  ordered  him 
to  deliver  to  me  the  fort  instantly;  he  asked  me  by  what 
authority  I  demanded  it.  I  answered  him,  "  In  the  name 
of  the  great  Jehovah,  and  the  Continental  Congress."- 
The  authority  of  congress  being  very  little  known  at 
that  time,  he  began  to  speak  again,  but  I  interrupted 
him,  and  with  my  drawn  sword  near  his  head  again  de 
manded  an  immediate  surrender  of  the  garrison;  with 
which  he  then  complied,  and  ordered  his  men  to  be 
forthwith  paraded  without  arms,  as  he  had  given  up  the 
garrison.  In  the  mean  time,  some  of  my  officers  had 
given  orders,  and  in  consequence  thereof,  sundry  of  the 
barrack  doors  were  beat  down,  and  about  one  third  of 
the  garrison  imprisoned,  which  consisted  of  said  com 
mander,  a  Lieutenant  Feltham,  a  conductor  of  artillery, 
a  gunner,  two  sergeants,  and  forty-four  rank  and  file; 
about  one  hundred  pieces  of  cannon,  one  thirteen  inch 
mortar,  and  a  number  of  swivels.  This  surprise  was 
carried  into  execution  in  the  gray  of  the  morning  of  the 
10th  of  May,  1775,  The  sun  seemed  to  rise  that  morn 
ing  with  a  superior  lustre;  and  Ticonderoga  and  its 
dependencies  smiled  on  its  conquerors,  who  tossed  about 
the  flowing  bowl,  and  wished  success  to  Congress,  and 
the  liberty  and  freedom  of  America.  Happy  it  was  for 
me,  at  that  time,  that  the  future  pages  of  the  book  of 
fate,  which  afterward  unfolded  a  miserable  scene  of  two 
years  and  ei#ht  months  imprisonment,  were  hid  from  my 
view." 

This  brilliant  exploit  secured  to  Allen  a  high  reputa 
tion  for  intrepid  valour  throughout  the  country.  In  the 
fall  of  1775,  he  was  sent  twice  into  Canada  to  observe 
the  dispositions  of  the  people,  and  attach  them  if  possi 
ble  to  the  American  cause.  During  one  of  these  excur 
sions  he  made  a  rash  and  romantic  attempt  upon  Mon 
treal.  He  had  been  sent  to  General  Montgomery  with  a 
guard  of  eighty  men  on  a  tour  into  the  villages  in  the 
neighbourhood.  On  his  return  he  was  met  by  a  Major 


ETIIAX    ALLEN'.  37 

Brown,  who  had  been  on  the  same  business.  It  was 
agreed  between  them  to  make  a  descent  upon  the  island 
of  Montreal.  Allen  was  to  cross  the  river,  and  land 
with  his  party  a  little  north  of  the  city;  while  Brown 
was  to  pass  over  a  little  to  the  south,  with  near  200 
men.  Allen  crossed  the  river  in  the  night  as  had  been 
proposed,  but  by  some  means  Brown  and  his  party  fail 
ed.  Instead  of  returning,  Allen,  with  great  rashness 
concluded  to  maintain  his  ground.  General  Carlton  soon 
received  intelligence  of  Allen's  situation  and  the  small- 
ness  of  his  numbers,  and  marched  out  against  him  with 
obout  40  regulars  and  a  considerable  number  of  English. 
Canadians,  and  Indians,  amounting,  in  the  whole,  to 
some  hundreds.  Allen  attempted  to  defend  himself,  but 
it  was  to  no  purpose.  Being  deserted  by  several  of  his 
men,  and  having  fifteen  killed,  he,  with  thirty-eight  of 
his  men,  were  taken  prisoners. 

He  was  now  kept  for  some  time  in  irons,  and  was 
treated  with  the  most  rigorous  and  unsparing  cruelty. 
From  his  narrative  it  appears  that  the  irons  placed  on 
him  were  uncommonly  heavy,  and  so  fastened,  that  he 
could  not  lie  down,  otherwise  than  on  his  back.  A  chest 
was  his  seat  by  day  and  his  bed  by  night.  Soon  after 
his  capture,  still  loaded  with  irons,  he  was  sent  to  Eng 
land,  being  assured  that  the  halter  would  be  the  reward 
of  his  rebellion  when  he  arrived  there.  Finding  that 
threats  and  menaces  had  no  effect  upon  him,  high  com 
mand  nndalargc  tract  of  the  conquered  country  wasafter- 
ward  offered  him,  on  condition  he  would  join  the  British. 
To  the  last  he  replied,  "that  he  viewed  their  offer  of 
conquered  U.  States  land  to  be  similar  to  that  which  the 
devil  offered  to  Jesus  Christ:  to  give  him  all  the  king 
doms  of  the  world,  if  he  would  fall  down  and  worship 
him,  when,  at  the  same  time,  the  poor  devil  had  not  one 
foot  of  land  upon  earth." 

After  his  arrival,  about  the  middle  of  December,  he 
was  lodged,  for  a  short  time,  in  Pendennis  Castle,  near 
Falmouth.  On  the  8th  of  January,  1776,  he  was  put  on 
board  a  frigate,  and  by  a  circuitous  route  again  carried 
to  Halifax.  Here  he  remained  closely  confined  in  the 
jail  from  June  to  October,  when  he  was  removed  to  New 


38  ETHAN    ALLEN. 

York.  During  the  passage  to  this  place,  captain  Burke, 
a  daring  prisoner,  proposed  to  kill  the  British  captain, 
and  seize  the  frigate ;  but  Allen  refused  to  engage  in  the 
plot,  and  was  probably  the  means  of  saving  the  life  of 
captain  Smith,  who  had  treated  him  with  kindness.  He 
was  kept  at  New  York  about  a  year  and  a  half,  some 
times  imprisoned,  and  sometimes  permitted  to  be  on 
parole.  While  here  he  had  an  opportunity  to  observe 
the  inhuman  manner  in  which  the  American  prisoners 
were  treated.  In  one  of  the  churches  in  which  they 
were  crowded,  he  saw  seven  lying  dead  atone  time,  and 
others  biting  pieces  of  chips  from  hunger.  He  calcula 
ted,  that  of  the  prisoners  taken  on  Long-Island  and  at 
Fort  Washington,  near  2000  perished  by  hunger  and 
cold,  or  in  consequence  of  diseases  occasioned  by  the 
impurity  of  their  prisons. 

Col.  Allen  was  exchanged  for  a  Col.  Campbell,  May 
6th,  1778,  and  after  having  repaired  to  head  quarters, 
and  offered  his  services  to  General  Washington,  in  case 
his  health  should  be  restored,  he  returned  to  Vermont. 
His  arrival  on  the  evening  of  the  last  day  of  May,gave  his 
friends  great  joy,  and  it  was  announced  by  the  discharge 
of  cannon.  As  an  expression  of  confidence  in  his  pat 
riotism  and  military  talents,  he  was  very  soon  appointed 
to  the  command  of  the  state  militia.  His  intrepidity, 
however,  was  never  again  brought  to  the  test,  though  his 
patriotism  was  tried  by  an  unsuccessful  attempt  of  the 
British  to  bribe  him  to  attempt  a  union  of  Vermont  with 
Canada.  He  died  suddenly  on  his  estate,  February 
13th,  1789. 

Gen.  Allen  was  brave,  humane,  and  generous ;  yet  his 
conduct  does  not  seem  to  have  been  much  influenced  by 
considerations  respecting  that  holy  and  merciful  Being, 
whose  character  and  whose  commands  are  disclosed  to 
us  in  the  Scriptures.  His  notions  with  regard  to  reli 
gion  were  loose  and  absurd.  He  believed  with  Pytha 
goras,  the  heathen  philosopher,  that  man,  after  death, 
would  transmigrate  into  beasts,  birds,  fishes,  reptiles, 
&c,  and  often  informed  his  friends  that  he  himself  ex 
pected  to  live  again  in  the  form  of  a  large  white  horse. 


"WILLIAM  ALEXANDER.  39 

WILLIAM  ALEXANDER, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  ALEXANDER,  commonly  called  Lord  Stirling, 
was  a  native  of  the  city  of  New-York.  He  was  consid 
ered,  by  many,  as  the  rightful  heir  to  the  title  and  estate 
of  an  earldom  in  Scotland,  of  which  country  his  father 
was  a  native;  and  although  when  he  went  to  North 
Britain  in  pursuit  of  this  inheritance,  he  failed  of  ob 
taining  an  acknowledgment  of  his  claim  by  government, 
yet,  among  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  he  received, 
by  courtesy,  the  title  of  Lord  Stirling.  In  his  youth  his 
labours  were  arduous  in  the  pursuit  of  science,  and  he 
discovered  an  early  fondness  for  the  study  of  mathemat 
ics  and  astronomy,  in  which  he  attained  great  eminence. 

At   the  commencement  of  the  revolutionary  war,  he 
attached  himself  to  the  cause  of  America,  and  entered 
the  field   against  her  enemies.     He  was   a  brave,  dis 
cerning,  and  intrepid  officer.     In  the  battle  on  Long-Is 
land,  August  27th,  1776,  he  shared  largely  in  the  glory 
and  disasters  of  the  day.     The  part  he  bore  in  that  en 
gagement  is  described  as  follows: — "The  fire  towards 
Brooklyn  gave  the  first  intimation  to  the  American  right 
that  the  enemy  had  gained  their  rear.     Lord  Stirling, 
perceiving  the  danger   with  which  he  was  threatened, 
and  that  he  could  only  escape  it  by  instantly  retreating 
across  the  creek,  by  the  Yellow  Mills,  not  far  from  the 
cove,  orders  to  this  effect  were  immediately  given,  and 
the  more  effectually  to  secure  the  retreat  of  the  main 
body   of  the  detachment,  he  determined  to  attack,  in 
person,  a  corps  of  the  British,  under  Lord  Cornwallis, 
stationed  at  a  house  somewhat  above  the  place  at  which 
he   proposed  crossing   the  creek.     About  four  hundred 
men  were   chosen  out  for  this  purpose;  and  the  attack 
was  made  with  great  spirit.     This  small   corps   was 
brough't  up  to  the  charge  several  rimes,  and  Lord  Stir 
ling  stated  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  dislodging  Lord 
Cornwallis  from  his  post:  but  the  force  in  his  front  in 
creasing,  and  General  Grant  also  advancing  on  his  rear, 
the  brave  men  he  commanded  was  no  longer  able  to  op 
pose  the  superior  numbers  which  assailed  them  on  every 


42  DAMEL    BOONE. 

"It  was  on  the  first  of  May,  1769,  that  I  resigned  my 
domestic  happiness,  and  left  my  family  and  peaceful 
habitation  on  the  Yadkin  River,  in  North-Carolina,  to 
wander  through  the  wilderness  of  America,  in  quest  of 
the  country  of  Kentucky,  in  company  with  John  Firiley, 
John  Stuart,  Joseph  Holden,  James  Money,  and  William 
Cool.  On  the  seventh  of  June,  after  travelling  through 
a  mountainous  wilderness,  in  a  western  direction,  we 
found  ourselves  on  Red  River,  where  John  Finley  had 
formerly  been  trading  with  the  Indians;  and  from  the 
top  of  an  eminence  saw  with  pleasure,  the  beautiful 
level  of  Kentucky.  For  some  time  we  had  experienced 
the  most  uncomfortable  weather.  We  now  encamped, 
made  a  shelter  to  defend  us  from  the  inclement  season, 
and  began  to  hunt  and  reconnoitre  the  country.  We 
found  abundance  of  wild  beasts  in  this  vast  forest.  The 
buffaloes  were  more  numerous  than  cattle  on  other  set 
tlements,  browzing  upon  the  leaves  of  the  cane,  or  crop 
ping  the  herbage  of  these  extensive  plains.  We  saw 
hundreds  in  a  drove,  and  the  numbers  about  the  salt 
springs  wrere  amazing.  In  the  forest,  the  habitation  of 
beasts  of  every  American  kind,  we  hunted  with  success 
until  December.  On  the  22d  of  December,  John  Stuart 
and  I  had  a  pleasing  ramble;  but  fortune  changed  the 
day  at  the  close  of  it.  We  had  passed  through  a  great 
forest,  in  which  stood  myriads  of  trees,  some  gay  with 
blossoms,  others  rich  with  fruits.  Nature  had  here  a 
series  of  wonders  and  a  fund  of  delights.  Here  she 
displayed  her  ingenuity  and  industry  in  a  variety  of 
flowers  and  fruits,  beautifully  coloured, elegantly  shaped, 
and  charmingly  flavoured;  and  we  were  diverted  with 
numberless  animals  presenting  themselves  perpetually 
to  our  view.  In  the  decline  of  the  day,  near  the  Ken 
tucky  River,  as  we  descended  the  brow  of  a  small  hill. 
a  number  of  Indians  rushed  out  of  a  thick  cane  brake 
and  made  us  prisoners.  They  plundered  us,  and  kept  us 
in  confinement  seven  days.  During  this  time,  we  dis 
covered  no  uneasiness  or  desire  to  escape,  which  made 
them  less  suspicious;  but  in  the  dead  of  night,  as  we 
lay  by  a  large  fire  in  a  thick  cane  brake,  when  sleep  had 
locked  up  their  senses,  my  situation  not  disposing  me 


DANIEL    BOONE.  43 

to  rest,  I  gently  awoke  my  companion.  We  seized  this 
favourable  opportunity  and  departed,  directing  our 
course  towards  our  old  camp;  but  found  it  plundered 
and  our  companions  dispersed  or  gone  home.  About 
this  time,  my  brother,  Squire  Boone,  with  another  ad 
venturer,  who  came  to  explore  the  country  shortly  after 
us,  was  wandering  through  the  forest,  and  accidentally 
found  our  camp.  Notwithstanding  our  unfortunate  cir 
cumstances,  and  our  dangerous  situation,  surrounded  by 
hostile  savages,  our  meeting  fortunately  in  the  wilder 
ness  gave  us  the  most  sensible  satisfaction.  Soon  after 
this,  my  companion  in  captivity,  John  Stuart,  was  killed 
by  the  savages;  and  the  man  that  came  with  my  broth 
er  returned  home  by  himself.  We  were  then  in  a  dan 
gerous,  helpless  situation,  exposed  daily  to  perils  and 
death,  among  savages  and  wild  beasts,  not  a  white  man 
in  the  country  but  ourselves.  Thus,  many  hundred 
miles  from  our  families,  in  the  howling  wilderness,  we 
did  not  continue  in  a  state  of  indolence,  but  hunted  eve 
ry  day,  and  prepared  a  little  cottage  to  protect  us  from 
the  winter  storms.  We  met  with  no  disturbance  during 
the  winter.  On  the  first  of  May,  1770,  my  brother  re 
turned  home  by  himself,  for  a  new  recruit  of  horses  and 
ammunition,  leaving  me  alone,  without  bread,  salt,  or 
sugar,  or  even  a  horse  or  dog.  I  passed  a  few  days  un 
comfortably.  The  idea  of  a  beloved  wife  and  family, 
and  their  anxiety  on  my  account,  would  have  exposed 
me  to  melancholy,  if  I  had  further  indulged  the  thought. 
One  day  I  undertook  a  tour  through  the  country,  when 
the  diversity  and  beauties  of  nature  I  met  with  in  this 
charming  season,  expelled  every  gloomy  thought.  Just 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  the  gentle  gales  ceased;  a  pro 
found  calm  ensued;  not  a  breath  shook  the  tremulous 
leaf.  I  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  commanding  ridge, 
and  looking  round  with  astonishment  and  delight,  beheld 
the  ample  plains  and  beauteous  tracts  below.  On  one 
hand  the  famous  Ohio,  rolling  in  silent  dignity,  and  mark 
ing  the  western  boundary  of  Kentucky  with  inconceiv 
able  grandeur.  At  a  vast  distance  I  beheld  the  moun 
tains  lift  their  venerable  brows  and  penetrate  the  clouds. 
All  things  were  still.  I  kindled  a  fire  near  a  fountain 


42  DAMEL    BOONE. 

"It  was  on  the  first  of  May,  1769,  that  I  resigned  my 
domestic  happiness,  and  left  my  family  and  peaceful 
habitation  on  the  Yadkin  River,  in  North-Carolina,  to 
wander  through  the  wilderness  of  America,  in  quest  of 
the  country  of  Kentucky,  in  company  with  John  Finley, 
John  Stuart,  Joseph  Holden,  James  Money,  and  William 
Cool.  On  the  seventh  of  June,  after  travelling  through 
a  mountainous  wilderness,  in  a  western  direction,  we 
found  ourselves  on  Red  River,  where  John  Finley  had 
formerly  been  trading  with  the  Indians;  and  from  the 
top  of  an  eminence  saw  with  pleasure,  the  beautiful 
level  of  Kentucky.  For  some  time  we  had  experienced 
the  most  uncomfortable  weather.  We  now  encamped, 
made  a  shelter  to  defend  us  from  the  inclement  season, 
and  began  to  hunt  and  reconnoitre  the  country.  We 
found  abundance  of  wild  beasts  in  this  vast  forest.  The 
buffaloes  were  more  numerous  than  cattle  on  other  set 
tlements,  browzing  upon  the  leaves  of  the  cane,  or  crop 
ping  the  herbage  of  these  extensive  plains.  We  saw 
hundreds  in  a  drove,  and  the  numbers  about  the  salt 
springs  were  amazing.  In  the  forest,  the  habitation  of 
beasts  of  every  American  kind,  we  hunted  with  success 
until  December.  On  the  22d  of  December,  John  Stuart 
and  I  had  a  pleasing  ramble;  but  fortune  changed  the 
day  at  the  close  of  it.  We  had  passed  through  a  great 
forest,  in  which  stood  myriads  of  trees,  some  gay  with 
blossoms,  others  rich  with  fruits.  Nature  had  here  a 
series  of  wonders  and  a  fund  of  delights.  Here  she 
displayed  her  ingenuity  and  industry  in  a  variety  of 
flowers  and  fruits,  beautifully  coloured, elegantly  shaped, 
and  charmingly  flavoured;  and  we  were  diverted  with 
numberless  animals  presenting  themselves  perpetually 
to  our  view.  In  the  decline  of  the  day,  near  the  Ken 
tucky  River,  as  we  descended  the  brow  of  a  small  hill, 
a  number  of  Indians  rushed  out  of  a  thick  cane  brake 
and  made  us  prisoners.  They  plundered  us,  and  kept  us 
in  confinement  seven  days.  During  this  time,  we  dis 
covered  no  uneasiness  or  desire  to  escape,  which  made 
them  less  suspicious;  but  in  the  dead  of  night,  as  we 
lay  by  a  large  fire  in  a  thick  cane  brake,  when  sleep  had 
locked  up  their  senses,  my  situation  not  disposing  me 


DANIEL    BOONE.  43 

to  rest,  I  gently  awoke  my  companion.     We  seized  this 
favourable    opportunity    and    departed,  directing    our 
course  towards  our  old  camp;  but  found  it   plundered 
and  our  companions   dispersed  or  gone  home.     About 
this  time,  my  brother,  Squire  Boone,  with   another  ad 
venturer,  who  came  to  explore  the  country  shortly  after 
us,  was  wandering  through  the  forest,  and  accidentally 
found  our  camp.     Notwithstanding  our  unfortunate  cir 
cumstances,  and  our  dangerous  situation,  surrounded  by 
hostile  savages,  our  meeting  fortunately  in  the  wilder 
ness  gave  us  the  most  sensible  satisfaction.     Soon  after 
this,  my  companion  in  captivity,  John  Stuart,  was  killed 
by  the  savages;  and  the  man  that  came  with  my  broth 
er  returned  home  by  himself.     We  were  then  in  a  dan 
gerous,  helpless  situation,  exposed  daily  to  perils  and 
death,  among  savages  and  wild  beasts,  not  a  white  man 
in   the   country  but   ourselves.     Thus,  many   hundred 
miles  from  our  families,  in  the  howling  wilderness,  we 
did  not  continue  in  a  state  of  indolence,  but  hunted  eve 
ry  day,  and  prepared  a  little  cottage  to  protect  us  from 
the  winter  storms.     We  met  with  no  disturbance  during 
the  winter.     On  the  first  of  May,   1770,  my  brother  re 
turned  home  by  himself,  for  a  new  recruit  of  horses  and 
ammunition,  leaving   me   alone,  without   bread,  salt,  or 
sugar,  or  even  a  horse  or  dog.     I  passed  a  few  days  un 
comfortably.     The   idea  of  a  beloved  wife  and  family, 
and  their  anxiety  on  niy  account,  would  have  exposed 
me  to  melancholy,  if  I  had  further  indulged  the  thought. 
One  day  I  undertook  a  tour  through  the  country,  when 
the  diversity   and  beauties  of  nature  I  met  with  in  this 
charming  season,  expelled  every  gloomy  thought.     Just 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  the  gentle  gales  ceased;  a  pro 
found  calm   ensued;  not  a  breath  shook  the  tremulous 
leaf.     I  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  commanding  ridge, 
and  looking  round  with  astonishment  and  delight,  beheld 
the  ample  plains  and  beauteous  tracts  below.     On  one 
hand  the  famous  Ohio,  rolling  in  silent  dignity,  and  mark 
ing  the   western  boundary  of  Kentucky  with  inconceiv 
able  grandeur.     At  a  vast  distance  I  beheld  the  moun 
tains  lift  their  venerable  brows  and  penetrate  the  clouds. 
All  thinsrs  were  still.     I  kindled  a  fire  near  a  fountain 


44  1>AMEL    BOONE. 

of  sweet  water,  and  feasted  on  the  loin  of  a  buck,  which 
a  few  hours  before,  I  had  killed.  The  shades  of  night 
soon  overspread  the  hemisphere,  and  the  earth  seemed 
to  gasp  after  the  hovering  moisture.  My  excursion  had 
fatigued  my  body  and  amused  my  mind.  I  laid  me 
down  to  sleep,  and  awoke  not  until  the  sun  had  chased 
away  the  night.  I  continued  this  tour,  and  in  a  few 
days  explored  a  great  part  of  the  country,  each  day 
equally  pleased  as  the  first;  after  which  I  returned  to 
my  old  camp,  which  had  not  been  disturbed  in  rny  ab 
sence.  I  did  not  confine  my  lodging  to  it,  but  often 
reposed  in  thick  cane  breakes,  to  avoid  the  savages, 
who,  I  believed,  often  visited  my  camp,  but  fortunately 
during  my  absence.  No  populous  city,  with  all  the  va 
rieties  of  commerce  and  stately  structures,  could  afford 
so  much  pleasure  to  my  mind  as  the  beauties  of  nature  I 
found  in  this  country.  Until  the  27th  of  July  I  spent  the 
time  in  an  uninterrupted  scene  of  sylvan  pleasures, 
when  my  brother,  to  my  great  felicity,  met  me,  accor 
ding  to  appointment,  at  our  old  camp.  Soon  after  we 
left  the  place,  and  proceeded  to  Cumberland  River,  re- 
connoitering  that  part  of  the  country,  and  giving  names  to 
the  different  rivers.  In  March,  1771,  I  returned  home 
to  my  family,  being  determined  to  bring  them  as  soon  as 
possible,  at  the  risk  of  my  life  and  fortune,  to  reside  in 
Kentucky,  which  I  esteemed  a  second  paradise.  On 
my  return,  I  found  my  family  in  happy  circumstances. 
I  sold  my  farm  at  Yadkin,  and  what  goods  we  could  not 
carry  with  us;  and  on  the  25th  of  September,  1773,  we 
bade  farewell  to  our  friends,  and  proceeded  on  our 
journey  to  Kentucky,  in  company  with  five  more  families, 
and  forty  men  that  joined  us  in  Powell's  valley,  which 
is  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the  now  settled  parts 
of  Kentucky;  but  this  promising  beginning  was  soon 
overcast  with  a  cloud  of  adversity.  On  the  10th  of 
October,  the  rear  of  our  company  was  attacked  by  a 
number  of  Indians,  who  killed  six  and  wounded  one  man. 
Of  these  my  eldest  son  was  one  that  fell  in  the  action. 
Though  we  repulsed  the  enemy,  yet  this  unhappy  affair 
scattered  our  cattle,  brought  us  into  extreme  diffi 
culty,  and  so  discouraged  the  whole  company,  that  wr 


DANIEL    BOONE.  45 

retreated  forty  miles  to  Clench  River.  We  had  passed 
over  two  mountains,  Powell's  and  Walden's,  and  were 
approaching  Cumberland  mountain,  when  this  adverse 
fortune  overtook  us.  These  mountains  are  in  the  wil 
derness,  in  passing  from  the  old  settlements  in  Virginia 
to  Kentucky,  are  ranged  in  a  S.  W.  and  N.  E.  direction, 
are  of  great  length  and  breadth,  and  not  far  distant  from 
each  other.  Over  them,  nature  has  formed  passes,  less 
difficult  than  might  be  expected  from  the  view  of  such 
huge  piles.  The  aspect  of  these  cliffs  is  so  wild  and 
horrid,  that  it  is  impossible  to  behold  them  without  ter 
ror.  Until  the  6th  of  June,  1774,1  remained  with  my 
family  on  the  Clench,  when  I  and  Michael  Stoner  were 
solicited  by  Governor  Dunmore  of  Virginia,  to  conduct 
a  number  of  surveyors  to  the  falls  of  Ohio.  This  was  a 
tour  of  near  eight  hundred  miles,  and  took  us  sixty-two 
days.  On  my  return,  Governor  Dunmore  gave  me  the 
command  of  three  garrisons,  during  the  campaign  against 
the  Shawanese.  In  March,  1775,  at  the  solicitation  of 
a  number  of  gentlemen  of  North-Carolina,  I  attended 
their  treaty  at  VVataga,  with  the  Cherokee  Indians,  to 
purchase  the  lands  on  the  south  side  of  Kentucky  River. 
After  this  I  undertook  to  make  out  a  road  in  the  best 
passage  from  the  settlements,  through  the  wilderness  to 
Kentucky.  Having  collected  a  number  of  enterprising 
men,  well  armed,  I  soon  began  this  work.  We  proceed 
ed  until  we  came  within  fifteen  miles  of  where  Boons- 
borough  now  stands,  where  the  Indians  attacked  us,  and 
killed  two,  and  wounded  two  more.  This  was  the  20th 
of  March,  1775.  Three  days  after  they  attacked  us 
again;  we  had  two  killed  and  three  wounded.  After 
this  we  proceeded  on  to  Kentucky  River  without  oppo 
sition.  On  the  first  of  April  we  began  to  erect  the  fort 
of  Boonsborough,  at  a  salt  lick,  sixty  yards  from  the 
river,  on  the  south  side.  On  the  4th,  they  killed  one  of 
our  men.  On  the  14th  of  June,  having  finished  the  fort, 
I  returned  to  my  family,  on  the  Clench.  Soon  after,  1 
removed  my  family  to  this  fort:  we  arrived  safe;  my 
wife  and  daughters  being  the  first  white  women  that 
stood  on  the  banks  of  Kentucky  River.  December  24th 
the  Indians  killed  one  man  and  wounded  another, 


46  DANIEL    BOONE. 

seeming  determined  to  persecute  us  for  erecting  this 
fort.  July  14th,  1776,  two  of  Colonel  Colway's  daugh 
ters  and  one  of  mine,  were  taken  prisoners  near  the  fort: 
I  immediately  pursued  the  Indians  with  only  eighteen 
men.  On  the  16th  I  overtook  them,  killed  two  of  them, 
and  recovered  the  girls.  The  Indians  had  divided  them 
selves  into  several  parties,  and  attacked,  on  the  same 
day,  all  our  settlements  and  forts,  doing  a  great  deal  of 
mischief.  The  husbandman  was  shot  dead  in  the  field, 
and  most  of  the  cattle  were  destroyed.  They  continu 
ed  their  hostilities  until  the  15th  of  April,  1777,  when  a 
party  of  one  hundred  of  them  attacked  Boonsborough, 
and  killed  one  man,  and  wounded  four.  July  4th  they  at- 
tcaked  it  again  with  two  hundred  men,  and  killed  us  one, 
and  wounded  two.  They  remained  forty-eight  hours, 
during  which  we  killed  seven  of  them.  All  the  settle 
ments  were  attacked  at  the  same  time.  July  19th, 
Colonel  Logan's  fort  was  besieged  by  two  hundred  In 
dians.  They  did  much  mischief:  there  were  only  fifteen 
men  in  the  fort;  they  killed  two  and  wounded  four  of 
them.  Indians'  loss  unknown.  July  25th,  twenty-five 
men  came  from  Carolina.  About  August  20th,  Colonel 
Bowman  arrived  with  one  hundred  men  from  Virginia. 
Now  we  began  to  strengthen,  and  had  skirmishes  with 
the  Indians  almost  every  day.  The  savages  now  learn 
ed  the  superiority  of  the  long  knife,  as  they  call  the 
Virginians;  being  out-generalled  almost  in  every  battle. 
Our  affairs  began  to  wear  a  new  aspect;  the  enemy  did 
not  now  venture  open  war,  but  practised  secret  mischief. 
January  1st,  1778, 1  went  with  thirty  men  to  the  Blue 
Licks,  on  the  Licking  River,  to  make  salt  for  the  differ 
ent  garrisons.  February  7th,  hunting  by  myself,  to  pro 
cure  meat  for  the  company,  I  met  a  party  of  one  hundred 
and  two  Indians,  and  two  Frenchmen,  marching  against 
Boonsborough.  They  pursued  and  took  me.  The  next 
day  I  capitulated  for  my  men,  knowing  they  could  not 
escape.  They  were  twenty-seven  in  number,  three  hav 
ing  gone  home  with  salt.  The  Indians,  according  to  the 
capitulation,  used  us  generously.  They  carried  us  to 
Old  Chiiicothe, the  principal  Indian  town  on  the  Little 
Miami.  On  the  18th  of  February  we  arrived  there. 


DANIEL    BOONE.  47 

after  an  uncomfortable  journey,  in  very  severe  weather. 
On  the  10th  of  March,  I  and  ten  of  my  men  were  con 
ducted  to  Detroit.  On  the  30th  we  arrived  there,  and 
were  treated  by  Governor  Hamilton,  the  British  com 
mander  at  that  post,  with  great  humanity.  The  Indi 
ans  had  such  an  affection  for  me,  that  they  refused  one 
hundred  pounds  sterling  offered  them  by  the  governor, 
if  they  would  leave  me  with  the  others,  on  purpose  that 
he  might  send  me  home  on  my  parole.  Several  English 
gentlemen  there,  sensible  of  my  adverse  fortune,  and 
touched  with  sympathy,  generously  offered  to  supply  my 
wants,  which  I  declined  with  many  thanks,  adding,  that 
I  never  expected  it  would  be  in  my  power  to  recompense 
such  unmerited  generosity.  On  the  10th  of  April  they 
brought  me  towards  Old  Chilicothe,  where  we  arrived 
on  the  25th  day  of  the  same  month.  This  was  a  long 
and  fatigueing  march  through  an  exceeding  fertile  coun 
try,  remarkable  for  fine  springs  and  streams  of  water. 
At  Chilicothe  I  spent  my  time  as  comfortably  as  I  could 
expect;  was  adopted,  according  to  their  custom,  into  a 
family,  where  I  became  a  son,  and  had  a  great  share  in 
the  affections  of  my  new  parents,  brothers,  sisters,  and 
friends.  I  was  exceedingly  familiar  and  friendly  with 
them,  always  appearing  as  cheerful  and  satisfied  as  pos 
sible,  and  they  put  great  confidence  in  me.  I  often  went 
a  hunting  with  them,  and  frequently  gained  their  ap 
plause  for  my  activity;  at  our  shooting  matches,  I  was 
careful  not  to  exceed  many  of  them  in  shooting;  for  no 
people  are  more  envious  than  they  are  in  this  sport,  I 
could  observe  in  their  countenances  and  gestures  the 
greatest  expressions  of  joy  when  they  exceeded  me,  and 
when  the  reverse  happened,  of  envy.  The  Shawanese 
king  took  great  notice  of  me,  and  treated  with  profound 
respect  and  entire  friendship,  often  intrusted  me  to  hunt 
at  my  liberty.  I  frequently  returned  with  the  spoils  of 
the  woods,  and  as  often  presented  some  of  what  I  had 
taken  to  him,  expressive  of  my  duty  to  my  sovereign. 
My  food  and  lodging  was  in  common  with  them ;  not  so 
good,  indeed,  as  I  could  desire,  but  necessity  made  eve 
ry  thing  acceptable.  I  now  began  to  meditate  an  escape, 
but  carefully  avoided  giving  suspicion.  Until  the  1st  of 


48  DANIEL    BOONE. 

June  I  continued  at  Old  Chilicothe,  and  then  was  taken 
to  the  salt  springs  on  the  Sciota,  and  kept  there  ten  days 
making  salt.  During  this  time  I  hunted  with  them,  and 
found  the  land,  for  a  great  extent  about  this  river,  to 
exceed  the  soil  of  Kentucky,  if  possible,  and  remarka 
bly  well  watered.  On  my  return  to  Chilicothe,  450  of 
the  choicest  Indian  warriors  were  ready  to  march  a- 
gainst  Boonsborough,  painted  and  armed  in  a  dreadful 
manner.  This  alarmed  me,  and  I  determined  to  escape. 
On  the  16th  of  June,  before  sunrise,  I  went  off  secretly, 
and  reached  Boonsborough  on  the  20th,  a  journey  of 
one  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  during  which  I  had  only 
one  meal.  I  found  our  fortress  in  a  bad  state;  but  we 
immediately  repaired  our  flanks,  gates,  posterns,  and 
formed  double  bastions,  which  we  completed  in  ten 
days.  One  of  my  fellow-prisoners,  escaped  after  me, 
brought  advice,  that  on  account  of  my  flight,  the  Indians 
had  put  off  the  expedition  for  three  weeks.  About  Au 
gust  1st,  I  set  out  with  nineteen  men,  to  surprise  Point 
Creek  Town  on  Sciota.  Within  four  miles  we  fell  in 
with  thirty  Indians  going  against  Boonsborough.  We 
fought  and  the  enemy  gave  way.  We  suffered  no  loss. 
The  enemy  had  one  killed  and  two  wounded.  We 
took  three  horses,  and  all  their  baggage.  The  Indians 
having  evacuated  their  town,  and  gone  altogether  a- 
gainst  Boonsborough,  we  returned,  passed  them  on  the 
6th  day,  and  on  the  7th  arrived  safe  at  Boonsborough. 
On  the  8th,  the  Indian  army,  444  in  number,  commanded 
by  Captain  Dugnesue,and  eleven  other  Frenchmen,  and 
their  own  chiefs,  came  and  summoned  the  fort.  I  re 
quested  two  days  consideration,  which  they  granted. 
During  this,  we  brought  in,  through  the  posterns,  all  the 
horses  and  other  cattle  we  could  collect.  Oa  the  9th,  in 
the  evening,  I  informed  their  commander,  that  we  were 
determined  to  defend  the  fort  while  a  man  was  living. 
They  then  proposed  a  treaty,  and  said,  if  we  sent  out 
nine  men  to  conclude  it,  they  would  withdraw.  Tin- 
treaty  was  held  within  sixty  yards  of  the  fort,  as  we 
suspected  the  savages.  The  articles  were  agreed  to 
and  signed;  when  the  Indians  told  us, it  was  their  cus 
tom  for  two  Indians  to  shake  hands  with  everv  white 


BANIEL    BOON&.  49 

man,  as  an  evidence  of  friendship.  We  agreed  to  this 
also.  They  immediately  grappled  us  to  take  us  prison 
ers;  but  we  cleared  ourselves  of  them,  though  surround- 
ecM5y  hundreds,  and  gained  the  fort  safely,  except  one 
that  was  wounded  by  a  heavy  fire  from  their  army.  On 
this  they  began  to  undermine  the  fort,  beginning  at  the 
water-mark  of  Kentucky  River,  which  is  sixty  yards 
from  the  fort.  We  discovered  this  by  the  water  being 
made  muddy  with  the  clay,  and  countermined  them  by 
cutting  a  trench  across  their  subterraneous  passage. 
The  enemy,  discovering  this,  by  the  clay  we  threw  out 
of  the  fort,  desisted.  On  the  20th  of  August  they  raised 
the  siege.  During  this  dreadful  siege  we  had  two  rren 
killed  and  four  wounded.  We* lost  a  number  of  cattle. 
We  killed  37  of  the  enemy  and  wounded  a  great  num 
ber.  We  picked  up  125  pounds  of  their  bullets,  besides 
what  stuck  in  the  logs  of  the  fort.  Soon  after  this  I 
went  into  the  settlement,  and  nothing  worthy  of  notice 
passed  for  some  time.  Jn  July,  1779,  during  my  ab 
sence,  Colonel  Bowman,  with  160  men,  went  against 
the  Shawanese  at  Old  Chilicothe.  He  arrived  undis 
covered;  a  battle  ensued,  which  lasted  till  10  in  the 
morning,  when  Colonel  Bowman  retreated  30  miles. 
The  Indians  collected  all  their  strength  and  pursued 
him,  when  another  engagement  ensued  for  two  hours,  not 
to  Colonel  Bowman's  advantage.  Colonel  Harrod  pro 
posed  to  mount  a  number  of  horses,  and  break  the  ene 
my's  line,  who  at  this  time  fought  with  remarkable  fury. 
This  desperate  measure  had  a  happy  effect,  and  the 
savages  fled  on  all  sides.  In  these  two  battles  we  had 
nine  men  killed  and  one  wounded.  The  enemy's  loss 
was  uncertain,  only  two  scalps  being  taken.  June  22d, 
1780,  about  600  Indians  and  Canadians  under  Colonel 
Bird,  attacked  Riddle's  and  Martin's  stations,  and  the 
forts  of  Licking  River,  with  6  pieces  of  artillery:  they 
took  all  the  inhabitants  captive,  and  killed  one  man 
and  two  women,  and  loaded  the  others  with  the  heavy 
baggage,  and  such  as  failed  in  the  journey  were  toma 
hawked.  The  hostile  disposition  of  the  savages  caused 
General  Clark,  the  commandant  at  the  falls  of  Ohio,  to 
marck  with  his  regiment  and  the  armed  force  of  the 

G 


JO  DANIEL    BOONE. 

country  against   Peccaway,  the  principal   town  of  the 
Shawanese,  on  a  branch  of  the  great  Miami,  which  he 
finished  with  great  success,  took  17   scalps  and  burned 
the  town  to  ashes,  with  the  loss  of  17  men.     About  this 
time  I  returned  to  Kentucky  with  my  family;  for  during 
my  captivity,  my  wife,  thinking  me  killed  by  the  Indians, 
had  transported  my  family  and  goods  on  horses,  through 
the  wilderness, amidst  many  dangers, to  her  father's  house 
in  North  Carolina.  The  history  of  my  difficulties  in  going 
and  returning,  is  too  long  to  be  inserted  here.     On  the 
6th  of  October,  1780,   soon   after  my  settling  again  at 
Boonsborough,   I   went  with   my   brother  to    the   Blue 
Licks;  and  on  our  return,  he  was  shot  by  a  party  of  In 
dians;  they  followed  me  by  the  scent  of  a  dog,  which  I 
shot  and  escaped.     The  severity  of  the  winter  caused 
great  distress  in  Kentucky,  the  enemy  during  the   sum 
mer  having  destroyed   most  of  the  corn.     The  inhabi 
tants  lived   chiefly   on  Buffaloes'  flesh.     In  the  spring, 
1782,  the  Indians  harassed  us.     In  May,  they  killed  one 
man  at  Ashton's  station,  and  took  a  negro.  Captain  Ash- 
ton  pursued  them  with  25  men;  and,  in  an  engagement 
which  lasted  two  hours,  he  was  obliged  to  retreat, hav 
ing  eight  killed  and  four  mortally  wounded  ;  their  brave 
commander  fell  in  the  action.     August  10,  two  boys  were 
carried  off  from  Major  Hoy's  station.     Captain  Holder* 
pursued  with  17  men;  they  were  also  defeated, and  lost 
four  and  one  wounded.     Our  affairs  became  more  and 
more  alarming.     The  savages  infested  the  country,  kill 
ing  men  at  every  opportunity.     In  a  field,  near  Lexing 
ton,  an  Indian  shot  a  man,  and  running  to  scalp  him,  was 
himself  shot  from  the  fort,  and  fell  dead  upon  his  enemy. 
All  the  Indian  nations  were  now  united  againt  us.     Au 
gust  15,500  Indians  and  Canadians  came  against  Bri- 
ant's  station,  live  miles  from  Lexington;  they  assaulted 
the  fort,  killed  all  the  cattle  round  it;  but  being  repulsed, 
they  retired  the  third  day,  having  about  30  killed,  their 
wounded  uncertain.     The  garrison   had  four  killed  and 
three    wounded.      August    18,  Colonel   Todd,  Colonel 
Trigg,  Major  Harland,and  myself,  speedily  collected  176 
men,  well  armed,  and  pursued  the  savages.     They  had 
marched  beyond  the  Blue  Licks,  to  a  remarkable  bend 


DANIEL    BOONE.  51 

of  the  main  fork  of  Licking  River,  about  forty-three 
miles  from  Lexington,  where  we  overtook  them  on  the 
19th.  The  savages  observing  us,  gave  way ;  and  we, 
ignorant  of  their  numbers,  passed  the  river.  When  they 
saw  our  proceedings,  having  greatly  the  advantage  in 
situation,  they  formed  their  line  of  battle  from  one  bend 
of  the  Licking  to  the  other,  about  a  mile  from  the  Blue 
Licks.  fThe  battle  was  exceedingly  fierce  for  about  fif 
teen  minutes,  when  we,  being  overpowered  by  numbers, 
were  obliged  to  retreat,  with  the  loss  of  sixty-seven 
men,  seven  of  whom  were  taken  prisoners.  The 
brave  and  much  lamented  Colonels  Todd  and  Trigg, 
Major  Harland,  and  my  second  son,  were  among 
the  dead.  We  were  afterwards  told,  that  the  Indi 
ans,  on  numbering  their  dead,  finding  that  they  had 
four  more  killed  than  we,  four  of  our  people  that  they 
had  taken  were  given  up  to  their  young  warriors,  to  be 
put  to  death  after  their  barbarous  manner.  On  our  re 
treat  we  were  met  by  Colonel  Logan,  who  was  hasten 
ing  to  join  us  with  a  number  of  well  armed  men:  this 
powerful  assistance  we  wanted  on  the  day  of  battle. 
The  enemy  said,  one  more  fire  from  us  would  have  made 
them  give  way.  I  cannot  reflect  upon  this  dreadful 
scene  but  sorrow  fills  my  heart:  a  zeal  for  the  defence 
of  their  country  led  these  heroes  to  the  scene  of  action, 
though  with  a  few  men,  to  attack  a  powerful  army  of 
experienced  warriors.  When  we  gave  way,  they  pur 
sued  us  with  the  utmost  eagerness,  and  in  every  quarter 
spread  destruction.  The  river  was  difficult  to  cross, 
and  many  were  killed  in  the  flight;  some  just  entered 
the  river,  some  in  the  water,  others  after  crossing,  in 
ascending  the  cliffs.  Some  escaped  on  horseback,  a  few 
on  foot;  and  being  dispersed  every  where,  a  few  hours 
brought  the  melancholy  news  of  the  unfortunate  battle 
to  Lexington.  Many  widows  were  now  made.  The 
reader  may  guess  what  sorrow  filled  the  hearts  of  the 
inhabitants,  exceeding  any  thing  1  am  able  to  describe. 
Being  reinforced,  we  returned  ,to  bury  the  dead,  and 
found  their  bodies  strewed  every  where,  cut  and  mang 
led  in  a  dreadful  manner.  This  mournful  scene  exhib 
ited  a  horror  almost  unparalleled:  some  torn  and  eaten 


52  DANIEL    UOONE. 

by  wild  beasts;  those  in  the  river  eaten  by  fish;  all  m 
such  a  putrified  condition  that  no  one  could  be  distin 
guished  from  another.  When  General  Clark,  at  the 
falls  of  Ohio,  heard  of  our  disaster,  he  ordered  an  ex 
pedition  to  pursue  the  savages.  We  overtook  them 
within  two  miles  of  their  towns,  and  we  should  have 
obtained  a  great  victory  had  not  some  of  them  met  us 
when  about  200  poles  from  their  camp.  The  savages 
fled  in  the  utmost  disorder,  and  evacuated  all  their 
towns.  We  burned  to  ashes  Old  Chilicothe,  Peccaway, 
New-Chilicothe,  Wills-Town,  and  Chilicothe;  entirely 
destroyed  their  corn  and  other  fruits,  and  spread  desola 
tion  through  their  country.  We.  took  seven  prisoners 
and  live  scalps,  and  lost  only  four  men,  two  of  whom 
were  accidentally  killed  by  ourselves. 

This  campaign  damped  the  enemy,  yet  they  made 
secret  incursions.  In  October,  a  party  attacked  Crab 
Orchard ;  and  one  of  them,  being  a  good  way  before  the 
others,  boldly  entered  a  house,  in  which  were  only  a 
woman  and  her  children,  and  a  negro  man.  The  sav 
age  used  no  violence,  but  attempted  to  carry  off  the 
negro,  who  happily  proved  too  strong  for  him  and  threw 
him  on  the  ground,  and  in  the  struggle  the  woman  cut  off 
his  head  with  an  axe,  whilst  her  little  daughter  shut  the 
door.  The  savages  instantly  came  up,  and  applied 
their  tomahawks  to  the  door,  when  the  mother  putting 
an  old  rusty  gun-barrel  through  the  crevice,  the  savages 
went  off.  From  that  time  until  the  happy  return  of 
peace  between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain,  the 
Indians  did  us  no  mischief.  Soon  after  the  Indians  de 
sired  peace.  Two  darling  sons  and  a  brother  I  have 
lost  by  savage  hands,  which  have  also  taken  forty  valu 
able  horses,  and  an  abundance  of  cattle.  Many  dark 
and  sleepless  nights  have  I  spent,  separated  from  the 
cheerful  society  of  men,  scorched  by  summer's  sun,  and 
pinched  by  the  winter's  cold,  an  instrument  ordained  to 
settle  the  wilderness.  But  now  the  scene  is  changed: 
peace  crowns  the  Sylvan  shade. 

DANIEL  BOONE, 
Fayctte  county,  Kentucky." 


JOHN    CADWALADER.  53 


JOHN  CADWALADER, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

THIS  zealous  and  inflexible  friend  of  America  was 
born  in  Philadelphia,  1742.  He  was  distinguished  for 
his  intrepidity  as  a  soldier,  in  upholding  the  cause  of 
freedom  during  the  most  discouraging  periods  of  danger 
and  misfortune,  that  America  ever  beheld. 

At  the  dawn  of  the  revolution,  he  commanded  a  corps 
of  volunteers,  designated  as  "Me  silk  stocking  company  " 
of  which  nearly  all  the  members  were  appointed  to  com 
missions  in  the  line  of  the  army.  He  afterward  was 
appointed  colonel  of  one  of  the  city  battalions,  and  be 
ing  thence  promoted  to  the  rank  of  Brigadier-General, 
was  intrusted  with  the  command  of  the  Pennsylvania 
troops,  in  the  important  operations  of  the  winter  cam 
paign  of  1776  and  1777.  He  acted  with  this  command, 
as  a  volunteer,  in  the  actions  of  Princeton,  Brandy  wine, 
Germantown,  and  Monmouth.  and  on  other  occasions, 
and  received  the  thanks  of  General  Washington,  whose 
confidence  and  regard  he  uniformly  enjoyed. 

The  merits  and  services  of  General  Cadwalader,  in 
duced  congress,  early  in  1778,  to  compliment  him  by  a 
unanimous  vote,  with  the  appointment  of  general  of  cav 
alry;  which  appointment  he  declined  under  an  impres 
sion  that  he  could  be  more  useful  to  his  country,  in  the 
sphere  in  which  he  had  been  acting. 

He  was  strongly  and  ardently  attached  to  General 
Washington,  and  his  celebrated  duel  with  General  Con- 
way,  arose  from  his  spirited  opposition  to  the  intrigues  of 
that  officer,  to  undermine  the  standing  of  the  command- 
er-in-chief.  The  following  anecdote  of  the  rencounter, 
is  related  in  the  "  Anecdotes  of  the  Revolutionary 
War:"— 

"  The  particulars  of  this  duel,  originating  in  the  hon 
ourable  feelings  of  General  Cadwalader,  indignant  at 
the  attempt  of  his  adversary  to  injure  the  reputation  of 
the  comrnander-in-chief,  by  representing  him  as  unquali 
fied  for  the  exalted  station  which  he  held,  appears  wor 
thy  of  record.  Nor  ought  the  coolness  observed  on  the 
occasion  by  the  parties,  to  be  forgotten,  as  it  evinces 


54  JOHN    CADWALADER. 

very  strongly,  that  although  imperious  circumstances 
may  compel  men  of  nice  feeling  to  meet,  that  the  dic 
tates  of  honour  may  be  satisfied,  without  the  smallest 
deviation  from  the  most  rigid  rules  of  politeness.  When 
arrived  at  the  appointed  rendezvous,  General  Cadwala- 
der,  accompanied  by  General  Dickenson  of  Pennsylva 
nia,  General  Conway  by  Colonel  Morgan,  of  Princeton, 
it  was  agreed  upon  by  the  seconds,  that,  on  the  word 
being  given,  the  principals  might  fire  in  their  own  time, 
and  at  discretion,  either  by  an  off-hand  shot,  or  by  ta 
king  a  deliberate  aim.  The  parties  having  declared 
themselves  ready,  the  word  was  given  to  proceed.  Gen 
eral  Conway  immediately  raised  his  pistol,  and  fired 
with  great  composure,  but  without  effect.  General 
Cadwalader  was  about  to  do  so,  when  a  sudden  gust  of 
wind  occurring,  he  kept  his  pistol  down  and  remained 
tranquil.  "  Why  do  you  not  fire,  General  Cadwalader?" 
exclaimed  Conway.  "  Because,"  replied  General  Cad 
walader,  "we  came  not  here  to  trifle.  Let  the  gale  pass, 
and  I  shall  act  my  part."  "You  shall  have  a  fair 
chance  of  performing  it  well,"  rejoined  Conway,  and 
immediately  presented  a  full  front.  General  Cadwala 
der  fired,  and  his  ball  entering  the  mouth  of  his  antago 
nist,  he  fell  directly  forward  on  his  face.  Colonel 
Morgan  running  to  his  assistance,  found  the  blood  spout 
ing  from  behind  his  neck,  and  lifting  up  the  club  of  his 
hair,  saw  the  ball  drop  from  it.  It  had  passed  through 
his  head  greatly  to  the  derangement  of  his  tongue  and 
teeth,  but  did  not  inflict  a  mortal  wound.  As  soon  as 
the  blood  was  sufficiently  washed  away  to  allow  him  to 
speak,  General  Conway,  turning  to  his  opponent,  said, 
good  humouredly,  "You  lire,  General,  with  much  delib 
eration,  and  certainly  with  a  great  deal  of  effect."  The 
parties  then  parted,  free  from  all  resentment. 

This  patriotic  and  exemplary  man  died  February 
10th,  1  786.  In  his  private  life  he  exemplified  all  the 
virtues  that  ennoble  the  character  of  man.  His  conduct 
was  not  marked  with  the  least  degree  of  malevolence, 
or  party  spirit.  Those  who  honestly  differed  from  him 
in  opinion,  he  always  treated  with  singular  tenderness. 
In  sociability,  and  cheerfulness  of  temper,  honesty,  and 


JAMES    CLINTON  55 

goodness  of  heart,  independence  of  spirit,  and  warmth 
of  his  friendship,  he  had  no  superior.  Never  did  any 
man  die  more  lamented  by  his  friends  and  neighbours; 
to  his  family  and  relations,  his  death  was  a  stroke  still 
more  severe. 


JAMES  CLINTON, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  CLINTON  was  the  fourth  son  of  Col.  Charles 
Clinton,  and  was  born  in  Ulster  county,  N.  Y.  Aug.  19th, 
1736.  In  common  with  his  brothers,  he  received  an 
excellent  education. 

In  the  critical  and  eventful  affairs  of  nations,  when 
their  rights  and  their  interests  are  invaded,  Providence, 
in  the  plenitude  of  its  beneficence,  has  generally  pro 
vided  men  qualified  to  raise  the  standard  of  resistance, 
and  has  infused  a  redeeming  spirit  into  the  community, 
which  enabled  it  to  rise  superior  to  the  calamities  that 
menaced  its  liberty  and  its  prosperity.  History  does 
not  record  a  more  brilliant  illustration  of  this  truth  than 
the  American  revolution.  In  defiance  of  the  most  ap 
palling  considerations,  constellations  of  the  most  illus 
trious  men,  pierced  the  dark  and  gloomy  clouds  which 
enveloped  this  oppressed  people,  and  shone  forth  in  the 
councils  and  the  armies  of  the  nation.  Their  wisdom 
drew  forth  the  resources,  and  their  energy  vindicated 
the  rights  of  America.  They  took  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  and  liberty  or  death  was  inscribed  on  their 
hearts.  Amidst  this  gallant  band,  Gen.  Clinton  stood  de 
servedly  conspicuous.  To  an  iron  constitution  and  an 
invincible  courage,  he  added  great  collness  in  action  and 
perseverance  in  effort.  The  predominant  inclination  of 
his  mind  was  to  a  military  life,  and  by  a  close  attention 
to  the  studies  connected  with  it,  he  prepared  himself- to 
perform  those  duties  which  afterward  devolved  upon 
him,  and  thereby  established  his  character  as  an  intrepr 
id  and  skilful  officer. 

In  the  war  of  1756,  usually  denominated  the  French 
war,  Clinton  first  encountered  the  fatigues  and  dangers 
of  a  military  life.  He  was  a  captain  under  Colonel 


56  JAMES  CLINTON. 

Bradstreet,  at  the  capture  of  Fort  Frontenac,  arid  ren 
dered  essential  service  in  that  expedition  by  the  capture 
of  a  sloop  of  war  on  Lake  Ontario. 

"  His  company  was  placed  in  rowgalleys,  and  favored 
by  a  calm,  compelled  the  French  vessel  to  strike  after 
an  obstinate  resistance.  His  designation  as  captain 
commandant  of  the  four  companies,  raised  for  the  pro 
tection  of  the  western  frontiers  of  the  counties  of  Or 
ange  and  Ulster,  was  a  post  of  great  responsibility  and 
hazard,  and  demonstrated  the  confidence  of  the  gov 
ernment.  The  safety  of  a  line  of  settlements,  extend 
ing  at  least  fifty  miles,  was  intrusted  to  his  vigilance  and 
intrepidity.  The  ascendency  of  the  French  c,ver  the 
ruthless  savages,  was  always  predominant,  and  the  in 
habitants  of  the  frontiers  was  compelled  to  hold  the 
plough  with  one  hand,  for  his  sustenance,  and  to  grasp 
his  gun  with  the  other  for  his  defence;  and  he  was  con 
tinually  in  danger  of  being  awakened,  in  the  hour  of 
darkness,  by  the  war-whoop  of  the  savages,  to  witness 
the  conflagration  of  his  dwelling  and  the  murder  of  his 
family. 

After  the  termination  of  the  French  war,  Mr.  Clinton 
married  Mary  De  Witt,  and  he  retired  from  the  camp  to 
enjoy  the  repose  of  domestic  life. 

When  the  American  revolution  was  on  the  eve  of  its 
commencement,  he  was  appointed,  on  the  30th  June, 
1775,  by  the  continental  congress,  colonel  of  the  3d  re 
giment  of  New-York  forces.  On  the  25th  of  October 
following,  he  was  appointed  by  the  provincial  congress 
of  New  York,  colonel  of  the  regiment  of  foot  in  Ulster 
county;  on  the  8th  of  March,  1776,  by  the  continental 
congress,  colonel  of  the  second  battalion  of  New-York 
troops;  and  on  the  9th  of  August,  1776,  a  Brigadier- 
General  in  the  army  of  the  United  States;  in  which 
station  he  continued  during  the  greater  part  of  the  war, 
having  the  command  of  the  New- York  line,  or  the  troops 
of  that  state;  and  at  its  close  he  was  constituted  a  Ma 
jor-General. 

In  1775,  his  regiment  composed  part  of  the  army 
under  General  Montgomery,  which  invaded  Canada; 
and  he  participated  in  all  the  fatigues,  dangers,  and 


JAMES    CLINTON.  57 

privations,  of  that  celebrated  but  unfortunate  expedi 
tion. 

In  October,  1777,  he  commanded  at  Fort  Clinton, 
which,  together  with  its  neighbour,  Fort  Motgornery,  con 
stituted  the  defence  of  the  Hudson  River,  against  the 
ascent  of  an  enemy.  His  brother,  the  governor,  com 
manded  in  chief  at  both  forts.  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  with 
a  view  to  create  a  diversion  in  favour  of  General  Bur- 
goyne,  moved  up  the  Hudson  with  an  army  of  40UO 
men,  and  attacked  those  works,  which  were  very  im 
perfectly  fortified,  and  only  defended  by  500  men,  com 
posed  principally  of  militia.  After  a  most  gallant 
resistance,  the  forts  were  carried  by  storm.  General 
Clinton  was  the  last  man  who  left  the  works,  and  not 
until  he  was  severely  wounded  by  the  thrust  of  a  bay 
onet;  pursued  and  fired  at  by  the  enemy,  and  his  at 
tending  servant  killed.  He  bled  profusely,  and  when 
he  dismounted  from  his  war-horse,  in  order  to  effect  his 
escape  from  the  enemy,  who  were  close  on  him,  it  oc 
curred  to  him  that  he  must  either  perish  on  the  moun 
tains  or  be  captured,  unless  he  could  supply  himself  with 
another  horse;  an  animal  which  sometimes  roamed  at 
large  in  that  wild  region.  In  this  emergency  he  took 
the  bridle  from  his  horse,  and  slid  down  a  precipice  of 
one  hundred  feet  to  the  ravine  of  the  creek  which  sepa 
rated  the  forts,  and  feeling  cautiously  his  way  along  its 
precipitous  banks,  he  reached  the  mountain  at  a  dis 
tance  from  the  enemy,  after  having  fallen  into  the 
stream,  the  cold  water  of  which  arrested  a  copious  eifu- 
sion  of  blood.  The  return  of  light  furnished  him  with 
the  sight  of  a  horse,  which  conveyed  him  to  his  house, 
about  sixteen  miles  from  the  fort,  where  he  arrived 
about  noon,  covered  with  blood  and  labouring  under  a 
severe  fever.  In  his  helpless  condition  the  British 
passed  up  the  Hudson,  within  a  few  miles  of  his  house, 
and  destroyed  the  town  of  Kingston. 

The  cruel  ravages  and  horrible  irruptions  of  the  Iro- 
quois,  or  six  nations  of  Indians,  on  our  frontier  settle 
ments,  rendered  it  necessary  to  inflict  a  terrible  chas 
tisement,  which  would  prevent  a  repetition  to  their 
atrocities.  An  expedition  was  accordingly  planned. 

H 


J#  JAMES    CL1M<X\. 

and  their  principal  command  was  committed  to  General 
Sullivan,  who  was  to  proceed  up  the  Susquehannah, 
with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  while  General  Clinton 
was  to  join  him  by  the  way  of  the  Mohawk. 

The  Iroquois    inhabited,  or  occasionally  occupied, 
that  immense   and    fertile   region  which  composes  the 
western  parts  of  New-York  and  Pennsylvania,  and  be 
sides  their  own  ravages,  from  the   vicinity  of  their  set 
tlements   to  the  inhabited    parts  of  the  United  States, 
they  facilitated  the  inroads  of  the  more  remote  Indians. 
When  General  Sullivan  was  on  his  way   to  the  Indian 
country,  he  was  joined  by  General  Clinton  with  upwards 
of  sixteen  hundrd   men.     The   latter  had  gone   up  the 
Mohawk  in    batteaux,  from  Schenectady,  and  after  as 
cending  that   river  about  forty-four  miles,  he   conveyed 
his  batteaux  from  Canajoharie  to  the  head  of  Otsego 
Lake,  one  of  the  sources  of  the  Susquehannah.     Find 
ing  the  stream  of  water,  in  that  river,  too  low  to  float  his 
boats,  he  erected  a  dam  across  the  mouth  of  the  lake, 
which  soon  rose  to  the  altitude  of  the  dam.     Having  got 
his    batteaux  ready,  he  opened  a  passage   through  the 
dam   for  the  water   to   flow.     This  raised  the   river  so 
high,  that  he  was  enabled  to  embark  all  his  troops;  to 
float  them  down  to  Tioga,  and  to  join  General  Sullivan 
in  good  season.     The  Indians  collected  their  strength  at 
Newton;  took  possession  of  proper  ground,  and  fortifi 
ed  it  with  judgment,  and  on  the  29th  August,  1779,  an 
attack  was  made  on  them  ;  their  works  were  forced,  and 
their  consternation  was  so  great,  that  they  abandoned 
all  further  resistance;  for,  as  the  Americans  advanced 
into  their  settlements,  they  retreated  before  them  with 
out  throwing  any  obstructions  in  their  way.     The  army 
passed  between  the  Cayuga  and    Seneca  lakes,  by  Ge 
neva  and  Canandaigua,and  as  far  west  as  the  Genesee 
River,  destroying  large  settlements  and  villages,  and 
fields   of    corn;    orchards  of   fruit-trees,   and   gardens 
abounding  with  esculent  vegetables.     The   progress  of 
the  Indians  in  agriculture,  struck  the  Americans  with 
astonishment.     Many  of  their   ears  of  corn    measured 
22  inches  in  length.     They  had  horses,  cows,  and  hogs, 
in  abundance.     They  manufactured  salt  and  sugar,  and 


JAMES    CLINTON.  39 

raised  the  best  of  apples  and  peaches,  and  their  dwell 
ings  were  large  and  commodious.  The  desolation  of 
their  settlements,  the  destruction  of  their  provisions,  and 
the  conflagration  of  their  houses,  drove  them  to  the 
British  fortresses  of  Niagara  for  subsistence,  where, 
living  on  salt  provisions,  to  which  they  were  unaccus 
tomed,  they  died  in  great  numbers,  and  the  effect  of  this 
expedition,  was  to  diminish  their  population:  to  damp 
their  ardour;  to  check  their  arrogance;  to  restrain  their 
cruelty,  and  to  inflict  an  irrecoverable  blow  on  their  re 
sources  of  extensive  aggression. 

For  a  considerable  portion  of  the  war,  General  Clin 
ton  was  stationed  at  Albany,  where  he  commanded,  in 
the  northern  department  of  the  union,  a  place  of  high 
responsibility  and  requiring  uncommon  vigilance  and 
continual  exertion.  An  incident  occurred,  when  on  this 
command,  which  strongly  illustrates  his  character.  A 
regiment  which  had  been  ordered  to  march  mutinied 
under  arms,  and  peremptorily  refused  obedience.  The 
general,  on  being  apprised  of  this,  immediately  repaired 
with  his  pistols  to  the  ground:  he  went  up  to  the  head  of 
the  regiment  and  ordered  it  to  march:  a  silence  ensued, 
and  the  order  was  not  complied  with.  He  then  pre 
sented  a  pistol  to  the  breast  of  a  sergeant,  who  was  the 
ringleader,  and  commanded  him  to  proceed  on  pain  of 
death ;  and  so  on  in  succession  along  the  Ijne,  and  his 
command  was,  in  every  instance,  obeyed,  and  the  regi 
ment  restored  to  entire  and  complete  subordination  and 
submission. 

General  Clinton  was  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown  and 
the  capture  of  Cornwallis,  where  he  distinguished  him 
self  by  his  usual  intrepidity. 

His  last  appearance  in  arms,  was  on  the  evacuation 
of  the  city  of  New-York,  by  the  British.  He  then  bid 
the  commander-in-chief  a  final  and  affectionate  adieu, 
and  retired  to  his  ample  estates,  where  he  enjoyed  that 
repose  which  was  required  by  a  long  period  of  fatigue 
and  privation. 

He  was,  however,  frequently  called  from  his  retire 
ment  by  the  unsolicited  voice  of  his  fellow-citizens,  to 
perform  civic  duties.  He  was  appointed  a  commissioner 


6O  JAMES    CLINTON. 

to  adjust  the  boundary  line  between  Pennsylvania  and 
New-York,  which  important  measure  was  amicably  and 
successfully  accomplished.  He  was  also  selected  by 
the  legislature  for  an  interesting  mission  to  settle  con 
troversies  about  lands  in  the  west,  which  also  termina 
ted  favourably.  He  represented  his  native  country  in 
the  assembly  and  in  the  convention  that  adopted  the 
present  constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  he  was 
elected,  without  opposition,  a  senator  from  t}ie  Middle 
District;  all  which  trusts  he  executed  with  perfect  in 
tegrity,  with  solid  intelligence,  and  with  the  full  appro 
bation  of  his  constituents. 

The  temper  of  General  Clinton  was  mild  and  affec 
tionate,  but  when  raised  by  unprovoked  or  unmerited 
injury,  he  exhibited  extraordinary  and  appalling  energy. 
In  battle  he  was  as  cool  and  as  collected  as  if  sitting 
by  his  fireside.  Nature  intended  him  for  a  gallant  and 
efficient  soldier,  when  she  endowed  him  with  the  faculty 
of  entire  self-possession  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest 
dangers. 

He  died  on  the  22d  of  December,  1812,  and  was  in 
terred  in  the  family  burial-place  in  Orange  county,  and 
his  monumental  stone  bears  the  following  inscription: 

"  Underneath  are  interred  the  remains  of  James  Clin 
ton  Esquire. 

44  Fie  was  born  Oth  of  August,  1736;  and  died  the  22d 
of  December,  1812. 

"  His  life  was  principally  devoted  to  the  military  ser 
vice  of  his  country,  and  he  had  filled  with  fidelity  and 
honour,  several  distinguished  civil  offices. 

"  He  was  an  officer  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  the 
war  preceding;  and,  at  the  close  of  the  former,  was  a 
major-general  in  the  army  of  the  United  States.  He 
was  a  good  man  and  a  sincere  patriot,  performing,  in  the 
most  exemplary  manner*  all  the  duties  of  life:  and  ha 
died,  as  he  lived,  without  fear,  and  without  reproach." 

[Biog raphical  Dictionary!] 


•'',.,.,{,.„„;„.' 


GEORGE    CLINTON.  61 

GEORGE  CLINTON, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

AMONG  the  many  distinguished  patriots  of  the  Revo 
lution,  who  have  become  tenants  of  the  tomb,  the  ser 
vices  of  none  will  be  more  readily  acknowledged,  than 
those  of  the  late  venerable  George  Clinton.  He  is 
descended  from  a  respectable  and  worthy  family,  and 
was  born  on  the  26th  July,  1739,  in  the  county  of  Ulster, 
in  the  Colony  of  New-York.  His  father  Colonel  Charles 
Clinton,  was  an  emigrant  from  Ireland. 

In  early  youth  he  was  put  to  the  study  of  law,  but 
long  before  he  became  a  man,  he  rallied  under  the 
standard  of  his  country,  and  assisted  Amherst  in  the 
reduction  of  Montreal.  In  this  campaign  he  nobly  dis 
tinguished  himself  in  a  conflict  on  the  nothern  waters, 
when,  with  four  gun-boats,  after  a  severe  engagement, 
he  captured  a  French  brig  of  eighteen  guns. 

This  war  being  ended,  he  returned  again  to  his  fa 
vourite  pursuit,  the  science  of  the  law,  and  placed  him 
self  under  the  tuition  of  Chief  Justice  Smith,  where  he 
became  a  student  with  Gov  ernor  Morris,  between  whom 
and  himself,  a  difference  of  political  opinion,  in  after 
life  wrought  a  separation. 

He  had  scarcely  commenced  as  a  practitioner,  when,  in 
1765,  the  storm  appeared  to  gather  round  his  native 
land,  and  the  tyrannic  disposition  of  the  mother  country 
was  manifested.  Foreseeing  the  evil  at  hand,  with  a 
mind  glowing  with  patriotism,  correct  and  quick  in  its 
perceptions;  and  like  time,  steady  and  fixed  to  the 
achievement  of  its  objects,  he  abandoned  the  advanta 
ges  of  the  profession  to  which  he  had  been  educated, 
and  became  a  member  of  the  colonial  legislature ;  where 
he  ever  displayed  a  love  of  liberty,  an  inflexible  attach 
ment  to  the  rights  of  his  country,  and  that  undaunted 
firmness  and  integrity,  without  which  this  nation  never 
would  have  been  free;  and  which  has  ever  formed  the 
most  brilliant,  though  by  no  means  the  most  useful  trait 
of  his  character.  He  was  chief  of  the  Whig  party. 

In  this  situation  he  remained,  contending  against  the 
doctrine  of  British  supremacy;  and  with  great  strength 


6'2  GEORGE    CLINTON. 

of  argument,  and  force  of  popularity,  supporting  the 
rights  of  America,  till  the  crisis  arrived  when,  in  1775, 
he  was  returned  a  member  of  that  patriotic  congress, 
who  laid  the  foundation  of  our  independence.  While 
in  this  venerable  body,  it  may  be  -said  of  him  with  truth, 
that,  "he  strengthened  the  feeble  knees,  and  the  hands 
that  hang  down."  On  the  4th  of  July,  1776,  he  was 
present  at  the  glorious  declaration  of  independence, 
and  assented  with  his  usual  energy  and  decision,  to  that 
measure,  but  having  been  appointed  a  brigadier-general 
in  the  militia,  and  also  in  the  continental  army,  the  exi 
gencies  of  his  country  at  that  trying  hour,  rendered  it 
necessary  for  him  to  take  the  field  in  person,  and  he 
therefore  retired  from  congress  immediately  after  his 
vote  was  given,  and  before  the  instrument  was  transcri 
bed  for  the  signnature  of  the  members ;  for  which  rea 
son  his  name  does  not  appear  among  the  signers. 

A  constitution  having  been  adopted  for  the  state  of 
N.  Y.  in  April,  1777,  he  was  chosen  at  the  first  election 
under  it,  both  governor  and  lieutenant-governor,  and  was 
continued  in  the  former  office  for  eighteen  years.  In 
this  year  he  was  also  appointed  by  Congress  to  command 
the  posts  of  the  Highlands,  a  most  important  and  ardu 
ous  duty.  The  design  of  the  enemy  was  to  separate 
New-England  from  the  rest  of  the  nation,  and  by  pre 
venting  succour  from  the  east,  to  lay  waste  the  middle 
and  southern  country.  Had  this  plan  been  carried  into 
effect,  American  liberty  would  probably  have  expired 
in  its  cradle.  It  was  then  that  his  vast  and  comprehen 
sive  genius  viewed  in  its  true  light  the  magnitude  of  the 
evil  contemplated  ;  and  he  roused  to  a  degree  of  energy 
unknown  and  unexpected.  It  was  then  that  Burgoyne 
was,  with  the  best  appointed  army  ever  seen  in  Ameri 
ca,  attempting  to  force  his  way  to  Albany,  and  Howe 
attempting  to  effect  a  junction  with  him  at  that  impor 
tant  place. 

The  crisis  was  all  important,  and  Clinton  did  not  hes 
itate — he  determined  at  all  hazards  to  save  his  country. 
With  this  view,  when  Howe  attempted  to  ascend  the 
river,  Clinton  from  every  height  and  angle  assailed  him. 
His  gallant  defence  of  Fort  Montgomery,  with  a  handful 


GEORGE    CLINTON.  63 

of  men,  against  a  powerful  force  commanded  by  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  was  equally  honourable  to  his  intrepid 
ity  and  his  skill.  The  following  are  the  particulars  of 
his  gallant  conduct  at  the  storming  of  forts  Montgomery 
and  Clinton,  in  October,  1777. 

"  When  the  British  reinforcements,  under  GeneraJ 
Robertson,  amounting  to  nearly  2000  men,  arrived  frtfm 
Europe,  Sir  Henry  Clinton  used  the  greatest  exertion, 
and  availed  himself  of  every  favourable  circumstance, 
to  put  these  troops  into  immediate  operation.  Many 
were  sent  to  suitable  vessels,  and  united  in  the  expedi 
tion,  which  consisted  of  about  400  men,  against  the  forts 
in  the  Highlands.  Having  made  the  necessary  arrange 
ments,  he  moved  up  the  North  River,  and  landed  on  the 
4th  of  October  at  Tarry-town,  purposely  to  impress 
General  Putnam,  under  whose  command  a  thousand 
continental  troops  had  been  left,  with  a  belief,  that  his 
post  at  Peek's-kill  was  the  object  of  attack.  At  eight 
o'clock  at  night,  the  general  communicated  the  intelli 
gence  to  Governor  Clinton,  of  the  arrival  of  the  British, 
and  at  the  same  time  expressed  his  opinion  respecting 
their  -.destination.  The  designs  of  Sir  Henry  were  im 
mediately  perceived  by  the  governor,  who  prorogued 
the  assembly  on  the  following  day,  and  arrived  that 
night  at  Fort  Montgomery.  The  British  troops,  in  the 
mean  time,  were  secretly  conveyed  across  the  river,  and 
assaults  upon  our  forts  were  meditated  to  be  made  on 
the  6th,  which  were  accordingly  put  in  execution,  by 
attacking  the  American  advanced  party  at  Doodletown, 
about  two  miles  and  a  half  from  Fort  Montgomery.  The 
Americans  received  the  fire  of  the  British,  and  retreated 
to  Fort  Clinton.  The  enemy  then  advanced  to  the  west 
side  of  the  mountain,  in  order  to  attack  our  troops  in 
the  rear.  Governor  Clinton  immediately  ordered  out  a 
detachment  of  one  hundred  men  towards  Doodletown, 
and  another  of  sixty,  with  a  brass  field-piece,  to  an  eli 
gible  spot  on  another  road.  They  were  both  soon  at 
tacked  by  the  whole  force  of  the  enemy,  and  compelled 
to  fall  back.  It  has  been  remarked,  that  the  talents,  as 
well  as  the  temper  of  a  commander,  are  put  to  as  severe 
a  test  in  conducting  a  retreat,  as  in  achieving  a  victory. 


64  GEORGE    CL1NTOM. 

The  truth  of  this  Governor  Clinton  experienced,  whenT 
with  great  bravery,  and  the  most  perfect  order,  he  reti 
red  till  he  reached  the  fort.  He  lost  no  time  in  placing 
his  men  in  the  best  manner  that  circumstances  would 
permit.  His  post,  however,  as  well  as  Fort  Clinton,  in 
a  few  minutes,  were  invaded  on  every  side.  In  the 
midst  of  this  disheartening  and  appalling  disaster,  he 
was  summoned,  when  the  sun  was  only  an  hour  high,  to 
surrender  in  five  minutes;  but  his  gallant  spirit  sternly 
refused  to  obey  the  call.  In  a  short  time  after,  the  Brit 
ish  made  a  general  and  most  desperate  attack  on  both 
posts,  which  was  received  by  the  Americans  with  un 
dismayed  courage  and  resistance.  Officers  and  men, 
militia  and  continentals,  all  behaved  alike  brave.  An 
incessant  fire  was  kept  up  till  dusk,  when  our  troops 
were  overpowered  by  numbers*,  who  forced  the  lines  and 
redoubts  at  both  posts.  Many  of  the  Americans  fought 
their  way  out,  others  accidentally  mixed  with  the  enemy, 
and  thus  made  their  escape  effectually;  for,  besides  be 
ing  favoured  by  the  night,  they  knew  the  various  ave 
nues  in  the  mountains.  The  governor,  as  well  as  his 
brother,  General  James  Clinton,  who  was  wounded, 
were  not  taken."* 

Howe,  driven  to  madness  by  the  manly  resistance  of 
his  foes,  inconsiderately  landed  and  marched  into  the 
country,  and  immortalized  his  name  by  burning  Kingston 
and  other  villages.  Put  the  great  object  of  the  expedi 
tion,  the  forming  a  junction  with  Burgoyne,  was  happily 
defeated,  by  the  capture  of  that  general,  and  America 
was  free. 

From  this  moment,  for  eighteen  years  in  succession, 
he  remained  the  governor  of  New-York,  re-elected  to 
that  important  station  by  a  generous  and  wise  people, 
who  knew  how  to  appreciate  his  wisdom  and  virtue, 
and  their  own  blessings.  During  this  period,  he  was 
president  of  the  convention  of  that  state,  which  ratified 
the  national  constitution:  when,  as  in  all  other  situa 
tions,  he  undeviatingly  manifested  an  ardent  attachment 
to  civil  liberty. 

*Am.  Biographical  Dictionary*- 


THOMAS    CON  WAY.  "65 

After  the  life  of  labour  and  usefulness,  here  faintly 
portrayed ;  worn  with  the  fatigues  of  duty,  and  with 
a  disease  which  then  afflicted  him,  but  which  had 
been  removed  for  the  last  eight  years  of  his  life ;  having 
led  his  native  state  to  eminent,  if  not  unrivalled  impor 
tance  and  prosperity,  he  retired  from  public  life,  with  a 
mind  resolved  not  to  mingle  again  with  governmental 
concerns,  and  to  taste  those  sweets  which  result  from 
reflecting  on  a  life  well  spent. 

In  1805  he  was  chosen  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States,  by  the  same  number  of  votes  that  elevated  Mr. 
Jefferson  to  the  presidency;  in  which  statiou.he  dischar 
ged  his  duties  with  unremitted  attention;  presiding  with 
great  dignity  in  the  Senate,  and  evincing,  by  his  votes 
and  his  opinions,  his  decided  hostility  to  constructive 
authority,  and  to  innovations  on  the  established  princi 
ples  of  republican  government. 

He  died  at  Washington,  when  attending  to  his  duties 
-as  Vice-President,  and  was  interred  in  that  city,  where 
a  monument  was  erected  by  the  filial  piety  of  his  chil 
dren,  with  this  inscription,  written  by  his  nephew: — 

4*To  the  memory  of  George  Clinton.  He  was  born 
in  the  state  of  New-York,  on  the  26th  July,  1739,  and 
died  in  the  city  of  Washington,  on  the  20th  April,  1812, 
in  the  73d  year  of  his  age." 

"  He  was  a  soldier  and  a  statesman  of  the  revolution. 
Eminent  in  council,  and  distinguished  in  war,  he  filled, 
with  unexampled  usefulness,  purity,  and  ability,  among 
many  other  offices,  those  of  Governor  of  his  native  state, 
and  of  Vice-President  of  the  U.  States.  While  he  lived, 
his  virtue,  wisdom,  and  valour  were  the  pride,  the  orna 
ment,  and  security  of  his  country,  and  when  he  died,  he 
left  an  illustrious  example  of  a  well  spent-life,  worthy  of 
all  imitation." 


THOMAS  CONWAY, 

Major- General  in  the  American  Army. 

"  THIS  gentleman  was  born  in  Ireland,  and  went  with 
his  parents  to  France,  at  the  age  of  six  years,  and  was 
from  his  youth  educated  to  the  profession  of  arms.  He 


66  THOMAS    CONWAt. 

had  obtained  considerable  reputation  as  a  military  offi 
cer,  and  as  a  man  of  sound  understanding  and  judgment. 
He  arrived  from  France  with  ample  recommendations, 
and  Congress  appointed  him  a  brigadier-general  in  May, 
1777.  He  soon  became  by  conspicuously  inimical  to  Gen 
eral  Washington,  and  sought  occasions  to  traduce  his 
character.  In  this  he  found  support  from  a  faction  in 
Congress,  who  were  desirous  that  the  commander-in- 
chief  should  be  superseded.  The  congress  not  long  after 
elected  General  Conway  to  the  office  of  Inspector-Gen 
eral  to  our  army,  with  the  rank  of  Major-Gen eral,  though 
he  had  insulted  the  commander-in-chief,  and  justified 
himself  in  doing  so.  This  gave  umbrage  to  the  briga 
diers  over  whom  he  was  promoted,  and  they  remonstra 
ted  to  congress  against  the  proceeding,  as  implicating 
their  honour  and  character.  Conway,  now  smarting 
under  the  imputation  of  having  instigated  a  hostile  fac 
tion  against  the  illustrious  Washington,  and  being  ex 
tremely  unpopular  among  the  officers  in  general,  and 
finding  his  situation  did  not  accord  with  his  feelings 
and  views,  resigned  his  commission,  without  having 
commenced  the  duties  of  inspector.  He  was  believed 
to  be  an  unprincipled  intriguer,  and  after  his  resignation, 
his  calumny  and  detraction  of  the  commander-in-chief, 
and  the  army  generally,  was  exercised  with  unrestrain 
ed  virulence  and  outrage. 

No  man  was  more  zealously  engaged  in  the  scheme 
of  elevating  General  Gates  to  the  station  of  command 
er-in-chief.  His  vile  in  sin  nations  and  direct  assertions 
in  the  public  newspapers,  and  in  private  conversation, 
relative  to  the  incapacity  of  Washington  to  conduct  the 
operations  of  the  army,  received  countenance  from 
several  members  of  Congress,  who  were  induced  to 
declare  their  want  of  confidence  in  him,  and  the  affair 
assumed  an  aspect  threatening  the  most  disastrous  con 
sequences.  Conway  maintained  a  correspondence  witli 
General  Gates  on  the  subject,  and  in  one  of  his  letters, 
he  thus  expresses  himself: — "Heaven  has  been  deter 
mined  to  save  your  country,  or  a  weak  general  and  bad 
counsellors  would  have  ruined  it  "  He  was  himself  at 
that  time  one  of  the  counsellors,  against  whom  he  so 


WILLIAM    DAVIDSON.  67 

basely  inveighs.  Envy  and  malice  ever  are  attendant 
on  exalted  genius  and  merit.  But  the  delusion  was  of 
short  continuance,  the  name  of  Washington  proved  un 
assailable,  and  the  base  intrigue  of  Conway  recoiled 
with  bitterness  on  his  own  head."* 

General  Cadwalader,  of  Pennsylvania,  indignant  at 
the  attempt  to  vilify  the  character  of  Washington,  re 
solved  to  avenge  himself  on  the  aggressor  in  personal 
combat.  The  particulars  of  this  meeting  are  given  in 
the  biography  of  General  Cadwalader.  General  Con- 
way,  conceiving  his  wound  to  be  mortal,  and  believing 
death  to  be  near,  acted  honourably,  in  addressing  to 
General  Washington,  whom  he  had  perfidiously  slander 
ed,  the  following  letter  of  apology  • 

"  Philadelphia,  Feb.  23, 1778. 

Sir, — I  find  myself  just  able  to  hold  my  pen  during  a 
few  minutes,  and  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
my  sincere  grief  for  having  done,  written,  or  said  any 
thing  disagreeable  to  your  Excellency.  My  career  will 
soon  be  over,  therefore  justice  and  truth  prompt  me  to 
declare  my  last  sentiments.  You  are,  in  my  eyes,  the 
great  and  good  man.  May  you  long  enjoy  the  love,  es 
teem,  and  veneration  of  these  states,  whose  liberties 
you  have  asserted  by  your  virtues. 

I  am,  with  the  greatest  respect, 

Your  Excellency's  Most  obedient  and  humble  Servant, 

THS.  CONWAY." 


WILLIAM  DAVIDSON, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

WILLIAM  DAVIDSON,  Lieutenant  Colonel  commandant 
in  the  North  Carolina  line,  and  Brigadier-General  in  the 
militia  of  that  state,  was  the  youngest  son  of  George 
Davidson,  who  removed  with  his  family,  from  Lancaster 
county,  in  Pennsylvania,  in  the  year  1750,  to  Rowan 
county,  in  North  Carolina. 

William  was  born  in  the  year  1746,  and  was  educa 
ted  in  a  plain  country  manner,  at  an  academy  in  Char- 

-Thacher's  Military  Journal. 


68  WILLIAM    DAVIDSON. 

lotte,  the  county  town  of  Mecklenburgh,  which  adjoins 
Rowan. 

Like  most  of  the  enterprising  youth  of  America.  Da 
vidson  repaired  to  the  standard  of  his  country,  on  the 
commencement  of  the  revolutionary  war,  and  was  ap 
pointed  a  major  in  one  of  the  first  regiments  formed  by 
the  government  of  North  Carolina. 

In  this  character,  lie  marched  with  the  North  Caroli 
na  line,  under  Brigadier-General  Nash,  to  the  main  ar 
my  in  New-Jersey,  where  he  served  under  the  command- 
er-in-cbief,  until  the  North  Carolina  line  was  detached  in 
November,  1779,  to  reinforce  the  southern  army,  com 
manded  by  Major-General  Lincoln.  Previous  to  this  e- 
vent, Major  Davidson  was  promoted  to  the  command  of  a 
regiment,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel  comman 
dant. 

As  he  passed  through  North-Carolina,  Davidson  ob 
tained  permission  to  visit  his  family,  from  which  he  had 
been  absent  nearly  three  years.  The  delay  produced 
by  this  visit  saved  him  from  captivity,  as  he  found 
Charleston  so  closely  invested  when  he  arrived  in  its 
neighbourhood,  as  to  prevent  his  injunction  with  his 
regiment. 

Soon  after  the  surrender  of  Genera!  Lincoln  and  his 
army,  the  loyalists  of  North  Carolina,  not  doubting  the 
complete  success  of  the  royal  forces,  began  to  embody 
themselves  for  the  purpose  of  contributing  their  active 
aid  in  the  field  to  the  subsequent  operations  of  the  Brit 
ish  general.  They  were  numerous  in  the  western  parts 
of  the  state,  and  especially  in  the  highland  settlement, 
about  Cross  Creek.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Davidson  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  some  of  our  militia,  called  out  to 
quell  the  expected  insurrection.  He  proceeded  with 
vigour  in  the  execution  of  his  trust;  and  in  an  engage 
ment  with  a  party  of  loyalists  near  Calson's  mill,  he  was 
severely  wounded ;  the  ball  entered  the  umbilical  re 
gion,  and  passed  through  his  body  near  the  kidneys. 
This  confined  him  for  eight  weeks;  when  recovering,  he 
instantly  took  the  field,  having  been  recently  appointed 
Brigadier-General  by  the  government  of  North  Carolina, 
in  the  place  of  Brigadier-General  Rutherford,  taken  at. 


WILLIAM    DAVIDSON.  69 

the  battle  of  ramden.  He  exerted  himself,  in  con 
junction  with  General  Sumner  and  Colonel  Davie,  to 
interrupt  the  progress  of  Lord  Cornwallis  in  his  advance 
towards  Salisbury,  and  throughout  that  eventful  period, 
gave  unceasing  evidences  of  his  zeal  and  firmness  in 
upholding  his  falling  country. 

After  the  victory  obtained  by  Morgan  at  the  Cowpens, 
Davidson  was  among  the  most  active  of  his  countrymen 
i a  assembling  the  militia  of  his  district,  to  enable  General 
Green,  who  had  joined  the  light  corps  under  Morgan,  to 
stop  the  progress  of  the  advancing  enemy,  and  was  de 
tached  by  General  Greene,  on  the  night  of  the  last  day 
of  January,  to  guard  the  very  ford  selected  by  Lord 
Cornwallis  for  his  passage  of  the  Catawba  River  on 
the  next  morning.  Davidson  possessed  himself  of  the 
post  in  the  night,  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  men ; 
and  having  placed  a  picquet  near  the  shore,  stationed  his 
corps  at  some  sninll  distance  from  the  ford. 

General  Henry  Lee,  from  whose  memoirs  of  the  war 
in  the  Southern  department  of  the  United  States,  we 
copy  the  present  Sketch  of  General  Davidson,  gives  the 
following  account  of  the  battle: 

"  A  disposition  was  immediately  made  to  dislodge  Da 
vidson,  which  the  British  General  O'Hara,  with  the- 
guards,  effected.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Hall,  led  with  the 
light  company,  followed  by  the  grenadiers.  The  current 
was  rapid,  the  stream  waist  deep,  and  five  hundred  yards 
in  width.  The  soldiers  crossed  in  platoons,  supporting 
each  others  steps.  When  Lieutenant  Colonel  Hall 
reached  the  river,  lie  was  descried  by  the  American  sen 
tinels, whose  challenge  and  fire  brought  Davidson's  corps 
into  array.  Deserted  by  his  guide,  Hall  passed  directly 
across,  not  knowing  the  landing  place,  which  lay  below 
him.  This  deviation  from  the  common  course,  rendered 
it  necessary  for  Davidson  to  incline  to  the  right;  but 
this  manoeuvre,  although  promptly  performed,  was  not 
effected  until  the  light  infantry  had  gained  the  shore.  A 
fierce  conflict  ensued,  which  was  well  supported  by 
Davidson  and  his  inferior  force.  The  militia  at  length 
yielded,  and  Davidson,  while  mounting  his  horse  to  di 
rect  the  retreat,  was  killed.  The  corps  dispersed  and 


70  WILLIAM    DAVIDSON. 

sought  safety  in  the  woods.  Our  loss  was  small  except 
ing  General  Davidson,  an  active,  zealous,  and  influen 
tial  officer.  The  British  Lieutenant-Colonel  Hall  was 
also  killed,  with  three  of  the  light  infantry,  and  thirty-, 
six  were  wounded.  Lord  Cornwallis's  horse  was  shot 
under  him,  and  fell  as  soon  as  he  got  upon  the  shore. 
Leslee's  horses  were  carried  down  the  stream,  and  with 
difficulty  saved ;  and  O'Hara's  tumbled  over  with  him 
into  the  water." 

The  loss  of  Brigadier-General  Davidson  would  have 
been  felt  in  any  stage  of  the  war.  It  was  particularly 
detrimental  in  its  effect  at  this  period,  as  he  was  the 
chief  instrument  relied  upon  by  General  Greene  for  the 
assemblage  of  the  militia;  an  event  all  important  at  th*s 
crisis,  and  anxiously  desired  by  the  American  general. 
The  ball  passed  through  his  breast,  and  he  instantly  fell 
dead. 

This  promising  soldier  was  thus  lost  to  his  country  in 
the  meridian  of  life,  and  at  a  moment  when  his  services 
would  have  been  highly  beneficial  to  her.  He  was  a 
man  of  popular  manners,  pleasing  address,  active  and 
indefatigable.  Enamoured  with  the  profession  of  arms, 
and  devoted  to  the  great  cause  for  which  he  fought, 
his  future  usefulness  may  be  inferred  from  his  former 
conduct. 

The  congress  of  the  United  States,  in  gratitude  for 
his  services,  and  in  commemoration  of  their  sense  of  his 
worth,  passed  the  following  resolution,  directing  the 
erection  of  a  monument  to  his  memory: — 

Resolved,  That  the  governor  and  council  of  North 
Carolina,  be  desired  to  erect  a  monument,  at  the  expense 
of  the  United  States,  not  exceeding  the  value  of  five 
hundred  dollars,  to  the  memory  of  the  late  Brigadier- 
General  Davidson,  who  commanded  the  militia  of  the 
district  of  Salisbury,  in  the  state  of  North  Cari-lina,  and 
was  killed  on  the  first  day  of  February  last,  fighting  gal 
lantly  in  the  defence  of  the  liberty  and  independence  o£ 
these  states."* 

*  American  Biographical  Dictionary. 


WILLIAM   RICHARDSON    DA  VIE.  71 


WILLIAM  RICHARDSON  DA  VIE, 

Colonel  Commandant  in  the  State  Cavalry  of  North  Carolina. 

COLONEL  DAVIE  was  born  in  the  village  of  Egremont, 
in  England,  on  the  20th  June,  1759.  His  father  visiting 
South  Carolina  soon  after  the  peace  of  1763,  brought 
with  him  this  son;  and  returning  to  England,  confided 
him  to  the  Rev.  William  Richardson,  his  maternal  un 
cle;  who  becoming  much  attached  to  his  nephew,  not 
only  took  charge  of  his  education,  but  adopted  him  as 
his  son  and  heir.  At  the  proper  age,  William  was  sent 
to  an  academy  in  North  Carolina;  from  whence  he  was, 
after  a  few  years,  removed  to  the  college  of  Nassau 
Hall,  in  Princeton,  New-Jersey,  then  becoming  the  re 
sort  of  most  of  the  southern  youth  under  the  auspices 
*of  the  learned  and  respectable  Dr.  Witherspoon.  Here 
he  finished  his  education,  graduating  in  the  autumn  of 
1776,  a  year  memorable  in  our  military  as  well  as  civil 
annals. 

Returning  home,  young  Davie  found  himself  shut  out 
for  a  time  from  the  army,  as  the  commissions  for  the 
troops  just  levied  had  been  issued.  He  went  to  Salis 
bury,  where  he  commenced  the  study  of  law.  The  war 
continuing,  contrary  to  the  expectations  which  general 
ly  prevailed  when  it  began,  Davie  could  no  longer  resist 
the  wish  to  plant  himself  among  the  defenders  of  his 
country.  Inducing  a  worthy  and  popular  friend,  rather 
too  old  for  military  service,  to  raise  a  troop  of  dragoons 
as  the  readiest  mode  of  accomplishing  his  object,  Davie 
obtained  a  lieutenancy  in  this  troop.  Without  delay 
the  captain  joined  the  Southern  army,  and  soon  after 
ward  returned  home  on  a  furlough.  The  command  of 
the  troop  devolving  on  Lieutenant  Davie,  it  was,  at  his 
request,  annexed  to  the  legion  of  Count  Pulaski,  where 
Captain  Davie  continued,  until  promoted  by  Major-Gen 
eral  Lincoln  to  the  station  of  Brigade  Major  of  cavalry. 
In  this  office  Davie  served  until  the  affair  at  Stono,  de 
voting  his  leisure  to  the  acquirement  of  professional 
knowledge,  and  rising  fast  in  the  esteem  of  the  general 
and  army.  When  Lincoln  attempted  to  dislodge  Lieu 
tenant  Colonel  Maitland  from  his  entrenched  camp  on 


72  WILLIAM    RICHARDSON    DA  VIE. 

the  Stono,  Davie  received  a  severe  wound,  and  was  re 
moved  from  camp  to  the  hospital  in  Charleston,  where 
he  was  confined  rive  months. 

Soon  after  his  recovery  he  was  empowered  by  the  gov 
ernment  of  North  Carolina  to  raise  a  small  legionary 
corps,  consisting  of  one  troop  of  dragoons  and  two  com 
panies  of  mounteJ  infantry;  at  the  head  of  which  he 
was  placed  with  the  rank  of  major. 

Quickly  succeeding  in  completing  his  corps,  in  whose 
equipment  he  expended  the  last  remaining  shilling  of  an 
estate  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  uncle,  he  took  the  field, 
and  was  sedulously  engaged  in  protecting  the  country 
between  Charlotte  and  Camden,  from  the  enemy's  pre 
datory  excursions.  On  the  fatal  19th  of  August,  he 
was  hastening  with  his  corps  to  join  the  army,  when  he 
met  our  dispersed  and  flying  troops.  He  nevertheless 
continued  to  advance  towards  the  conqueror;  and  by  his 
prudence,  zeal,  and  vigilance,  saved  a  few  of  our  wag 
ons,  and  many  of  our  stragglers.  Acquainted  with  the 
movement  of  Sumpter,  and  justly  apprehending  that  he 
would  be  destroyed  unless  speedily  advised  of  the  de 
feat  of  Gates,  he  despatched  immediately  a  courier  to 
that  officer,  communicating  what  had  happened,  per 
forming,  in  the  midst  of  distress  and  confusion,  the  part 
of  an  experienced  captain. 

So  much  was  his  conduct  respected  by  the  government 
of  North  Carolina,  that  he  was  in  the  course  of  Septem 
ber  promoted  to  the  rank  of  colonel  commandant  of  the 
cavalry  of  the  state. 

At  the  two  gloomiest  epochs  of  the  southern  war, 
soon  after  the  fall  of  Charleston  and  the  overthrow  of 
Gates,  it  was  the  good  fortune  of  Colonel  Davie,  to  be 
the  first  to  shed  a  gleam  through  the  surrounding  dark 
ness,  and  give  hope  to  the  country,  by  the  brilliancy  of 
his  exploits.  In  one  instance,  without  loss  or  injury,  on 
his  part,  he  entirely  destroyed  an  escort  of  provisions, 
taking  40  prisoners,  with  their  horses  and  arms.  In  the 
other,  under  the  immediate  eye  of  a  large  British  force, 
which  was  actually  beating  to  arms,  to  attack  him,  he 
routed  a  party  stronger  than  his  own  killing  and  wound 
ing  60  of  the  enemy,  and  carrying  off  with  him  96  hor 
ses  and  120  stand  of  arms* 


WILLIAM    RICHARDSON    DAVIE.  713 

When  Lord  Cornwallis  entered  Charlotte,  a  small 
village  in  North  Carolina,  Colonel  Davie,  at  the  head 
of  his  detachment,  threw  himself  in  his  front,  determined 
to  give  him  a  specimen  of  the  firmness  and  gallantry, 
with  which  the  inhabitants  of  the  place  were  prepared 
to  dispute  with  his  lordship  their  native  soil. 

Colonel  Tarhon's  legion  formed  the  British  van,  led 
by  Major  Hanger,  the  commander  himself  being  confin 
ed  by  sickness.  When  that  celebrated  corps  had  ad 
vanced  near  to  the  centre  of  the  village,  where  the 
Americans  were  posted,  Davie  poured  into  it  so  destruc 
tive  a  fire,  that  it  immediately  wheeled,  and  retired  in 
disorder.  Being  rallied  on  the  commons,  and  again  led 
on  to  the  charge,  it  received  on  the  same  spot,  another 
fire  with  similar  effect. 

Lord  Cornwallis  witnessing  the  confusion,  thus  pro 
duced,  among  his  choicest  troops,  rode  up  in  person,  and 
in  a  tone  of  dissatisfaction,  upbraided  the  legion  with 
unsoldierly  conduct,  reminding  it  of  its  former  exploits 
and  reputation. 

Pressed  on  his  flanks  by  the  British  infantry,  Colonel 
Davie  had  now  fallen  back  to  a  new  and  well-selected 
position.  To  dislodge  him  from  this,  the  legion  cavalry 
advanced  on  him,  a  third  time,  in  rapid  charge,  in  full 
view  of  the  commander  in  chief,  but  in  vain.  Another 
fire  from  the  American  marksmen,  killed  several  of  their 
officers,  wounded  Major  Hanger,  and  repulsed  them 
again  with  increased  confusion. 

The  main  body  of  the  British  being  now  within  mus 
ket  shot,  the  Ameiican  leader  abandoned  the  contest. 

It  was  by  strokes  like  these,  that  he  seriously  crippled 
and  intimidated  his  enemy,  acquired  an  elevated  stand 
ing  in  the  estimation  of  his  friends,  and  served  very 
essentially  the  interest  of  freedom. 

In  this  station  he  was  found  by  General  Greene,  on 
assuming  the  command  of  the  southern  army;  whose 
attention  had  been  occupied  from  his  entrance  into  North 
Carolina,  in  remedying  the  disorder  in  the  quarter-mas 
ter  and  commissary  departments.  To  the  first,  Carring- 
ton  had  been  called ;  and  Davie  was  now  induced  to 
take  upon  himself  the  last,  much  as  he  preferred  the 

K 


74  WILLIAM    RICHARDSON    DAVIE. 

station  lie  then  possessed.  At  the  head  of  this  depart 
ment,  Colonel  Davie  remained  throughout  the  trying 
campaign  which  followed;  contributing  greatly  by  his 
talents,  his  zeal,  his  local  knowledge,  and  his  influence, 
to  the  maintenance  of  the  difficult  and  successful  ope 
rations  which  followed.  While  before  Ninety-six, 
Greene,  foreseeing  the  difficulties  again  to  be  encounter 
ed,  in  consequence  of  the  accession  of  force  to  the  enemy 
by  the  arrival  of  three  regiments  from  Ireland,  deter 
mined  to  send  a  confidential  officer  to  the  legislature  of 
North  Carolina,  then  in  session,  to  represent  to  them  his 
relative  condition,  and  to  urge  their  adoption  of  effectual 
measures  without  delay,  for  the  collection  of  magazines 
of  provisions  and  the  reinforcement  of  the  army.  Colo 
nel  Davie  was  selected  by  Greene  for  this  important 
mission,  and  immediately  repaired  to  the  seat  of  govern 
ment,  where  he  ably  and  faithfully  exerted  himself  to 
give  effect  to  the  views  of  his  general. 

The  effect  of  the  capture  of  Cornwallis  assuring  the 
quick  return  of  peace,  Colonel  Davie  returned  home, 
and  resumed  the  profession  with  the  practice  of  the  law 
in  the  town  of  Halifax  on  the  Roanoke. 

He  was  afterward  governor  of  North  Carolina,  and 
one  of  our  ambassadors  to  France,  at  a  very  portentous 
conjuncture. 

The  war  in  the  south  was  ennobled  by  great  and  sin 
gular  instances  of  individual  and  partizan  valour  and 
enterprise.  Scarcely  do  the  most  high  drawn  heroes  of 
fiction,  surpass,  in  their  darings  and  extraordinary  a- 
chievernents,  many  of  the  real  ones  of  Pickens,  Marion, 
Sumptcr,  and  Davie,  who  figured  in  the  southern  states, 
during  the  conflict  of  the  revolution. 

Colonel  Davie,  although  younger  by  several  years, 
possessed  talents  of  a  higher  order,  and  was  much  more 
accomplished,  in  education  and  manners,  than  either  of 
his  three  competitors  for  fame.  For  the  comeliness  of 
his  person,  his  martial  air.  his  excellence  in  horseman 
ship,  and  his  consummate  powers  of  field  eloquence,  he 
had  scarcely  an  equal  in  the  armies  of  his  country.  But 
his  chief  excellence  lay  in  the  magnanimity  and  gener 
osity  of  his  soul,  his  daring  courage,  his  vigilance  and 


HENRY    DEARBORN.  75 

address,  and  his  unrelaxing  activity  and  endurance  of 
toil.  If  he  was  less  frequently  engaged  in  actual  com 
bat,  than  either  of  his  three  compeers,  it  was  not  be 
cause  he  was  inferior  to  either  of  them  in  enterprise,  or 
love  of  battle.  His  district  being  more  interior,  was,  at 
first,  less  frequently  invaded  by  British  detachments. 
When,  however,  lord  Cornwallis  ultimately  advanced 
into  that  quarter,  his  scouts  and  foraging  parties,  found 
in  Colonel  Davie,  and  his  brave  associates,  as  formida 
ble  an  enemy  as  they  had  ever  encountered. 


HENRY  DEARBORN, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

THE  subjoined  sketch  of  the  revolutionary  services 
rendered  by  General  Dearborn,  is  collected  from  his 
brothers  in  arms. 

When  the  Brish  sent  a  detachment  to  destroy  the  mil 
itary  stores  in  the  vicinity  of  Lexington,  Mr.  Dearborn, 
then  a  young  gentleman  in  the  study  of  medicine,  resided 
at  Nottingham,  in  New-Hampshire.     Animated  by  the 
patriotic  resistance  of  the  Americans,  immediately  upon 
tjeing  informed  of  the  battle,  he  assembled  the  inhabi 
tants,  and  observed  that  the  time  had  now  arrived,  when 
the  rights   of  the  American  people  must  be  vindicated 
by  arms,  or  an  odious  despotism  would  for  ever  be  rivet 
ed  upon  them.     The  militia  had  already  gathered;  and 
impressed  with  these  sentiments,  a  company  of  65  men, 
armed  and  accoutred,  paraded  at  10  o'clock  of  the  next 
day  after  the  battle  of  Lexington.     Dearborn  advanced 
with  them  in  such  rapidity,  that  they  reached  Cambridge 
common,  a  distance  of  fifty  miles  in  twenty  hours.     Af 
ter  remaining  at  Cambridge  for  several  days,  there  being 
no  immediate  occasion  for  their  services,  they  returned. 
Dearborn  was  soon  after  commissioned  a  captain  in  one 
of  the  New-Hampshire  regiments,  under  the  command 
of  Col.  Stark,  and  such  was  his  popularity  and  the  con 
fidence  of  the  people  in  his  bravery  and  conduct,  that 
in  ten  days  from  the  time  he  received  his  commission,  he 
enlisted  a  full  company,  and  again  marched  to  Cam 
bridge.     On  the  glorious  seventeenth  of  June,  information 


76  HENRY    DEARBORN. 

was  received  at  Mystic  (now  Medford)  where  Dearborn 
was  stationed,  that  the  British  were  preparing  to  come 
out  from  Boston,  and  storm  the  works  which  had  been 
thrown  up  on  Breed's  Hill  the  night  before,  by  the  Amer 
icans. 

The  regiment  to  which  he  was  attached  was  imme 
diately  paraded,  and  marched  to  Charlestown  Neck. 
Dearborn's  company  composed  the  flank  guard  to  the 
regiment.  They  crossed  the  neck  under  a  galling  fire 
from  the  British  men  of  war  and  floating  batteries,  and 
having  sustained  some  loss,  arrived  at  the  heights.  The 
action  soon  commenced,  and  the  Americans  stood  their 
ground  until  their  ammunition  was  expended,  and  they 
could  no  longer  beat  off  the  British  bayonets  with  the 
but-ends  of  their  muskets.  Dearborn  carried  a  fusee 
into  the  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill,  and  fired  regularly  with 
his  men. 

The  next  arduous  service  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
was  the  expedition  to  Canada,  through  the  wilds  of 
Kennebec,  under  the  command  of  General  Arnold,  He 
was  not  ordered  on  this  dangerous  and  difficult  service, 
but  persuaded  a  captain,  who  was  drafted,  to  exchange 
places  with  him.  Thirty-two  days  were  employed  in 
traversing  the  hideous  wilderness  between  the  settle 
ments  on  the  Kennebec  and  the  Chaudiere,  in  which 
every  hardship  and  fatigue,  of  which  human  nature  is 
capable,  was  endured  indiscriminately  by  the  officers 
and  troops.  On  the  highlands,  between  the  Kennebec 
and  St.  Lawrence,  the  remnant  of  provisions  was  divi 
ded  among  the  companies,  who  were  directed  to  make 
the  best  of  their  way  in  separate  divisions  to  the  settle 
ment  of  Chaudiere.  The  last  payment  of  food  in  Dear- 
borirs  company  was  shortly  consumed,  and  he  was 
reduced  to  the  extremity  of  dividing  a  large  dog  which 
accompanied  him,  with  his  associates.  When  they  reach 
ed  the  Chaudiere,  from  colds,  extreme  hardship,  and 
want  of  sustenance,  his  strength  failed  him,  and  he  was 
unable  to  walk  but  a  short  distance  without  walking 
into  the  river  to  refrigerate  and  stimulate  his  limbs. 
With  difficulty  he  reached  a  poor  hut,  on  the  Chaudiere, 
where  he  told  his  men  he  could  accompany  them  no 


HENRY    DEARBORN.  77 

further,  animated  them  forward  to  a  glorious  discharge 
of  their  duty,  and  would  suffer  no  one  to  remain  to  at 
tend  him  in  his  illness.  His  company  left  him  with  tears 
in  their  eyes,  expecting  to  see  him  no  more.  Dearborn 
was  here  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  during  which  his 
life  was  in  danger  for  ten  days,  without  physician  or 
medicine,  and  with  scarcely  the  common  necessaries  of 
life.  His  fine  constitution  at  last  surmounted  his  dis 
ease,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  mount  a  horse,  he 
proceeded  to  Point  Levi,  crossed  over  to  Wolfs  Cove, 
and  made  his  unexpected  appearance  at  the  head  of  his 
company  a  few  days  before  the  assault  on  Quebec.  At 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  31st  December,  in  a 
severe  snow  storm,  and  in  a  climate  that  vies  with  Nor 
way  in  tempest  and  intense  cold,  the  attack  was  com 
menced.  Dearborn  was  attached  to  the  corps  under 
Gen.  Arnold,  who  was  wounded  early  in  the  action,  and 
carried  from  the  field.  Morgan  succeeded  to  the  com 
mand,  and  "  with  a  voice  louder  than  the  tempest,"  ani 
mated  the  troops  as  they  stormed  the  first  barrier  and 
entered  the  town.  Montgomery  had  already  bled  on 
immortal  ground,  and  his  division  being  repulsed,  the 
corps  under  Morgan  was  exposed  to  a  sanguinary  but 
unavailing  contest.  From  the  windows  of  the  store 
houses,  each  a  castle,  and  from  the  tops  of  the  parapets, 
a  destructive  fire  was  poured  upon  the  assailants.  In 
vain  was  the  second  barrier  gained  by  scaling  ladders; 
double  ranks  of  soldiers  presented  a  forest  of  bayonets 
below,  and  threatened  inevitable  destruction  to  any  one 
who  should  leap  from  the  walls.  Dearborn  maintained 
for  a  long  time  this  desperate  warfare,  until  at  last  he 
and  the  remnant  of  his  company,  were  overpowered  by  a 
sortie  of  200  men,  with  field  pieces,  who  attacked  him 
in  front  and  rear,  in  a  short  street,  and  compelled  him  to 
surrender.  The  whole  corps,  originally  led  on  by  Ar 
nold,  were  killed  or  made  prisoners  of  war. 

Dearborn  was  now  put  into  rigid  confinement,  with  a 
number  of  other  officers,  who  were  not  allowed  to  con 
verse  with  each  other,  unless  in  the  presence  of  the 
officer  of  the  guard.  While  in  prison  he  was  urgently 
solicited  by  the  English  officers  to  join  the  British:  was 


78  HENRY  DEARBORN. 

promised  a  colonel's  commission  if  he  would  accept,  and 
was  assured  if  he  refused,  that  he  would  be  sent  out  to 
England  in  the  spring,  and  be  inevitably  hanged  as  a 
rebel.  The  only  reply  he  made  to  their  solicitations  or 
menaces,  was,  that  he  had  taken  up  arms  in  defence  of 
the  liberties  and  the  rights  of  his  country ;  that  he  never 
would  disgrace  himself,  or  dishonour  his  profession,  by 
receiving  any  appointment  under  Great  Britain,  but  was 
ready  to  meet  death  in  any  shape,  rather  than  relinquish 
the  glorious  cause  he  had  espoused. 

In  May,  1776,  Col.  Meigs  and  himself  were  permitted 
to  return  on  their  parole.  They  were  sent  round  to 
Halifax  in  a  ship  of  war,  and  treated  with  the  usual 
contempt  and  hauteur  of  English  officers,  who  would 
not  deign  to  speak  to  Americans,  nor  even  allow  them 
to  walk  the  same  side  of  the  quarter  deck  with  them 
selves.  They  were  put  ashore  in  Penobscot  Bay,  and 
returned  by  land.  In  the  March  following,  Dearborn 
was  exchanged,  and  appointed  Major  to  the  3d  New- 
Hampshire  regiment,  commanded  by  Col.  Scammell. 
In  May  he  arrived  at  Ticonderoga,  and  was  constantly 
in  the  rear  guard,  skirmishing  with  the  British  and  Indi 
ans,  in  the  retreat  of  St.  Clair,  when  pressed  on  by  Bur- 
goyne's  army. 

When  the  advance  of  Burgoyne  was  checked,  and  he 
encamped  on  the  heights  of  Saratoga,  Dearborn  was 
appointed  Lieut.  Col.  commandant  of  a  partizan  corps 
of  300  men,  stationed  in  front,  to  act  as  a  corps  of  ob 
servation  in  concert  with  Morgan's  riflemen.  In  the 
famous  engagement  of  the  19th  of  September,  Colonel 
Morgan  himself  commenced  the  encounter  by  driving  in 
the  outposts  and  picket-guards  of  the  right  wing  of  the 
British  army,  which  was  commanded  by  General  Bur 
goyne  in  person.  In  the  hard  fought  battle  of  the  7th 
of  October,  he  was  in  the  division  of  General  Arnold, 
who  commenced  a  furious  and  persevering  attack  on  the 
right  wing  of  the  British  forces.  Whilst  Arnold  pressed 
hard  on  the  enemy,  Dearborn  was  ordered  to  pass  the 
right,  and  take  possession  of  eight  heavy  cannon,  which 
played  over  the  British  into  the  American  lines.  la 
executing  this  order  he  was  charged  by  a  corps  of  light 


HENRY    DEARBORN.  79 

infantry,  which  he  repulsed  by  fixed  bayonets,  gained 
the  eminence,  took  the  cannon  and  the  corps  of  artillery 
attached  to  them,  and  having  disposed  of  them,  made  a 
rapid  movement  into  the  rear  of  the  British  lines,  and 
gave  a  full  fire  before  his  approach  was  discovered. 
The  British  were  soon  after  forced  to  a  precipitate  re 
treat,  and  Dearborn  assisted  in  storming  their  works 
through  the  whole  extent,  under  a  tremendous  fire  of 
grape  and  musketry.  Arnold  was  wounded  in  the  same 
Jeg,  which  suffered  when  Dearborn  followed  him  to  the 
assault  of  Quebec,  and  was  repulsed  from  the  works 
after  having  gained  a  temporary  possession  of  them; 
but  Lieutenant-Colonel  Brooks  having  gained  the  left 
of  the  encampment,  was  enabled  to  maintain  his  ground. 
During  the  long-contested  battle,  which  decided  the  fate 
of  Burgoyne's  army,  Dearborn  was  unable  to  rest,  or  to 
take  any  refreshments,  from  daylight  until  late  at  night. 
The  succeeding  winter  he  passed  in  camp  at  Valley 
Forge,  with  the  main  body  of  the  American  army, 
commanded  by  General  Washington  in  person. 

At  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  the  spirited  conduct  of 
Colonel  Dearborn,  and  the  corps  under  his  command, 
attracted  particularly  the  attention  of  the  commander- 
in-chief.  After  Lee  had  made  a  precipitate  and  unex 
pected  retreat,  Washington,  among  other  measures 
which  he  took  to  check  the  advance  of  the  British,  or 
dered  Dearborn  with  350  men,  to  attack  a  body  of 
troops  which  were  passing  through  an  orchard  on  the 
right  wing  of  the  enemy.  The  Americans  advanced 
under  a  heavy  fire,  with  a  rapid  movement,  and  shoul 
dered  arms.  The  enemy  filed  oif  and  formed  on  the 
edge  of  a  morass;  the  Americans  wheeled  to  the  right, 
received  their  second  fire  with  shouldered  arms  ;marched 
up  until  within  eight  rods,  dressed,  gave  a  full  fire,  and 
charged  bayonets.  The  British  having  sustained  con 
siderable  loss,  fled  with  precipitation  across  the  morass, 
where  they  were  protected  by  the  main  body  of  the 
army.  "  What  troops  are  those?"  inquired  Washington, 
with  evident  pleasure  at  their  gallant  conduct: — "  Full- 
blooded  Yankees  from  New-Hampshire,  sir,"  replied 
Dearborn, 


&0  EVAN  EDWARDb. 

When  the  disaffection  and  treason  of  Arnold  trans-' 
pired,  he  was  stationed  at  West  Point,  and  was  officer 
of  the  day  at  the  execution  of  Major  Andre. 

In  1781,  he  was  appointed  Deputy-Quartermaster- 
General,  with  the  rank  of  Colonel,  and  served  in  that 
capacity  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown.  In  short,  there  was 
scarcely  a  battle  between  Yorktown  and  Quebec,  during 
the  long  protracted  war,  in  which  Colonel  Dearborn  did 
not  take  a  brave,  active,  and  conspicuous  part. 


EVAN    EDWARDS, 

Major  in  the  American  Army. 

THE  following  interesting  account  is  taken  from  Gar 
den's  "Anecdotes  of  the  Revolutionary  War." 

"  Among  the  many  meritorious  officers  who  gained 
distinction  in  the  service,  there  were  few  who  better  de 
served,  or  in  a  more  extensive  degree  obtained  the  res 
pect  of  the  public,  and  affectionate  esteem  of  his  milita 
ry  associates,  than  Major  Edwards. 

The  Major  was  of  the  Baptist  persuasion,  and  ori 
ginally  designed  for  the  Ministry,  but  imbibing  the 
military  spirit  of  the  times,  entered  the  army,  and  ap 
peared*  at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  as  one  of  the 
defenders  of  Fort  Washington.  A  brave  and  stubborn 
resistance  could  not  save  the  post,  which  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  and  Edwards  became  a  prisoner.  I 
have  often  heard  him  make  a  jest  of  the  whimsical  and 
fantastic  figure  which  he  exhibited  on  this  occasion. 
"It  was  not  to  be  wondered,"  he  said,  "that  starch  in 
person,  emaciated  as  an  anatomy,  with  rueful  counte 
nance,  rendered  more  ghastly  by  misfortune,  my  dress 
partly  military,  but  showing  much  of  a  clerical  cut,  that 
the  risibility  of  the  conquerors  should  have  been  very 
highly  excited.  One  of  the  leaders,  however,  of  the 
successful  assailants,  anxious  to  excite  a  still  higher 
degree  of  merriment,  ordered  me  to  ascend  a  cart,  and 
as  a  genuine  specimen  of  a  Rebel  officer,  directed  that  I 
should  be  paraded  through  the  principal  streets  of  New 
York.  It  was  at  the  entrance  of  Canvass  Town,  that  I 
was  much  amused  by  the  exclamation  of  a  Scottish 


EVAN   EDWARDS.  81 

female  follower  of  the  camp,  who  called  to  a  compan 
ion, — 'Quick, quick  lassie, rin  hither  a  wee, and  devarte 
yoursel,'  they've  cotch'd  a  braw  and  bonny  Rebel,  'twill 
do  ye  guid  to  laugh  at  him.'  Hooting  and  derision 
attended  my  whole  career,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
farce  i  was  committed  to  prison." 

In  the  eventful  changes  of  the  war  it  so  happened, 
that  the  very  individual  who  had  so  ungenerously  abused 
his  power,  became  a  captive,  experiencing  the  addition 
al  mortification  of  yielding  his  sword  into  the  hands  of 
the  man  so  lately  treated  with  scornful  indignity.  Struck 
with  the  singularity  of  the  rencounter,  and  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  his  former  behaviour,  he  with  frankness 
said — '  You  are  the  last  man,  Sir,  that  I  wished  to  meet 
on  such  an  occasion,  for  no  one  have  I  ever  so  wantonly 
offended;  from  you  I  have  nothing  to  look  for  but  mer 
ited  retaliation.'  'Not  a  word  more  on  the  subject,  I 
beseech  you,  Sir,'  was  the  reply  of  Edwards,  'the  sur 
render  of  your  sword  destroyed  every  recollection  of 
former  animosity;  rest  assured,  therefore,  that  while 
you  remain  with  us,  it  will  be  equally  my  pride  and 
pleasure  to  sooth  the  pains  of  captivity,  and  to  render 
you  every  service  in  my  power.' 

The  cheerful  disposition  of  Edwards,  rendered  him, 
as  I  have  already  stated,  an  universal  favourite.  The 
occasional  indulgence  of  satirical  propensities,  pecu 
liarly  so  of  General  Charles  Lee,  who  made  him  his 
Aid-de-camp,  and  at  his  death  left  him  a  third  of  hi& 
estate.  I  never  knew  him,  however,  make  an  ill-natured 
remark,  where  he  was  not  provoked  to  do  so — then,  in 
deed,  he  spared  not. 

A  Colonel  in  the  army,  who  was  too  much  inclined  to 
be  poetical  in  his  prose,  telling  Edwards,  that  he  had 
heard  a  report  concerning  him,  that  had  greatly  amused 
him,  the  Major  assured  him  that  it  was  altogether  with 
out  foundation.  "O,  no,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  deny  it 
not — it  must  be  true,  and  I  will  report  and  give  it  cur 
rency."  "Thank  you,  thank  you,  kind  Sir,"  rejoined 
Edwards,  "your  doing  so,  will  save  me  the  trouble  of 
contradicting  it," 

L 


82  CHRISTOPHER     GADSDEN. 


CHRISTOPHER  GADSDEN, 

Brigadier-General  and  Lieutenant-Governor  of  South  Carolina. 

THIS  venerable  patriot  of  the  revolution,  was  born  in 
Charleston,  about  the  year  1724.  He  was  sent  to 
England  by  his  father,  while  a  youth,  where  he  was  edu 
cated.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  returned  to  Carolina, 
and  finished  his  education  in  the  counting  house  of  Mr. 
Lawrence  of  Philadelphia. 

General  Gadsden  had  naturally  a  strong  love  for  in 
dependence.  He  was  born  a  republican.  Under  well- 
ordered  government,  he  was  a  good  subject,  but  could 
not  brook  the  encroachments  of  any  man,  or  body  of  men 
to  entrench  on  his  rights. 

"  As  early  as  1766,"  says  Judge  Johnson,  4i  there  was 
at  least  one  man  in  South  Carolina,  who  foresaid  and 
foretold  the  views  of  the  British  government,  and  expli 
citly  urged  his  adherents  to  the  resolution,  to  resist  even 
to  death.  Gen.  Gadsden,  it  is  well  known,  always  fa 
voured  the  most  decisive  and  energetic  measures,  He 
thought  it  folly  to  temporize,  and  insisted  that  cordial 
reconciliation,  on  honourable  terms,  wras  impossible. 
When  the  news  of  the  repeal  of  the  stamp-act  arrived, 
and  the  whole  community  was  in  ecstacy  at  the  event, 
he,  on  the  contrary,  received  it  with  indignation,  and 
privately  convening  a  party  of  his  friends,  he  harangued 
them  at  considerable  length  on  the  folly  of  relaxing 
their  opposition  and  vigilance,  or  indulging  the  fallacious 
hope,  that  Great  Britain  would  relinquish  her  designs, 
or  pretentious.  He  drew  their  attention  to  the  preamble 
of  the  act,  and  forcibly  pressed  upon  them  the  absurdity 
of  rejoicing  at  an  act  that  still  asserted  and  maintained 
the  absolute  dominion  over  them.  And  then  reviewing 
all  the  chances  of  succeeding  in  a  struggle  to  break  the 
fetters,  when  again  imposed  upon  them, he  pressed  them 
to  prepare  their  minds  for  the  event.  The  address  was 
received  with  silent  but  profound  devotion,  and  with 
linked  hands,  the  whole  party  pledged  themselves  to  re 
sist;  a  pledge  that  was  faithfully  redeemed,  when  the 
hour  of  trial  arrived." 


CHRISTOPHER    GADSDEN.  83 

"  In  July  1775,  when  the  provincial  congress  determin 
ed  to  raise  troops,  Gadsden,  though  absent  on  the  pub 
lic  duty  at  Philadelphia,  was,  without  his  consent  or 
knowledge,  elected  colonel  of  the  first  regiment.  For 
personal  courage  he  was  inferior  to  no  man.  In  knowl 
edge  of  the  military  art  he  had  several  equals,  and  some 
superiors;  but  from  the  great  confidence  reposed  in  his 
patriotism,  and  the  popularity  of  his  name,  he  was  put 
at  the  head  of  the  new  military  establishment.  He  left 
congress  and  repaired  to  the  camp  in  Carolina,  declaring 
that  u  wherever  his  country  placed  him,  whether  in  the 
civil  or  military  department;  and  if  in  the  latter,  wheth 
er  as  corporal  or  colonel, he  would  cheerfully  serve  to  the 
utmost  of  his  ability." 

In  the  next  year  he  was  promoted  by  congress  to  the 
rank  of  Brigadier-General.  He  commanded  at  fort 
Johnson,  when  the  fort  on  Sullivan's  Island  was  attack 
ed ;  and  he  was  prepared  to  receive  the  enemy  in  their 
progress  to  Charleston.  The  repulse  of  the  British 
prevented  his  coming  into  action.  Their  retreat  reliev 
ed  South  Carolina  from  the  pressure  of  war  for  two 
years.  In  this  period,  Gadsden  resigned  his  military 
command,  but  continued  to  serve  in  the  assembly  and 
the  privy  council,  and  was  very  active  in  preparing  for 
and  endeavouring  to  repel  the  successive  invasions  of 
the  state  by  the  British  in  1779  and  1780.  He  was  the 
friend  of  every  vigorous  measure,  and  always  ready  to 
undertake  the  most  laborious  duties,  and  to  put  himself 
in  the  front  of  danger. 

When  Charleston  surrendered  by  capitulation,  he  was 
lieutenant-governor,  and  paroled  as  such, and  honourably 
kept  his  engagement.  For  ihe  'three  months  which  fol 
lowed,  he  was  undisturbed;  but  on  the  defeat  of  Gates 
in  August  1780,  the  British  resolved  that  he  and  several 
others  who  discovered  no  disposition  to  return  to  the 
condition  of  British  subjects,  should  be  sent  out  of  the 
country.  He  was  accordingly  taken  in  his  own  house 
by  a  file  of  soldiers,  and  put  on  board  a  vessel  in  the 
harbour.  He  knew  not  why  he  was  taken  up,  nor  what 
was  intended  to  be  done  with  him,  but  supposed  it  was 
introductory  to  a  trial  for  treason  or  rebellion,  as  the 


84  CHRISTOPHER    GADSDEN. 

British  gave-  out  that  the  country  was  completely  con 
quered. 

He  was  soon  joined  by  twenty-eight  compatriots,  who 
were  also  taken  upon  the  same  day. 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  half  a  dollar,  and  turning  to 
his  associates  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  assured  them 
that  was  all  the  money  he  had  at  his  command.  The 
conqueror  sent  him  and  his  companions  to  St.  Augustine, 
then  a  British  garrison. 

On  their  landing,  limits  of  some  extent  were  offered 
to  them  on  condition  of  their  renewing  the  parole  they 
had  given  in  Charleston,  "to  do  nothing  injurious  to  the 
British  interest."  When  this  was  tendered  to  General 
Gadsden,  he  replied,  "that  he  had  already  given  one, 
and  honourably  observed  it;  that  in  violation  of  his 
rights  as  a  prisoner  under  a  capitulation,  he  had  been 
sent  from  Charleston,  and  that  therefore  he  saw  no  use 
in  giving  a  second  parole."  The  commanding  officer 
replied, "  he  would  enter  into  no  arguments,  but  demand 
ed  an  explicit  answer  whether  he  would  or  would  not 
renew  his  parole."  General  Gadsden  answered  with 
that  highminded  republican  spirit  which  misfortunes 
could  not  keep  down,  "I  will  not.  In  God  I  put  my 
trust,  and  fear  no  consequences."  "Think  better  of  it, 
Sir,"  said  the  officer,  "  a  second  refusal  of  it  will  fix 
your  destiny  ;  a  dungeon  will  be  your  future  habitation." 
"Prepare  it  then,"  said  the  inflexible  patriot,  UI  will 
give  no  parole,  so  help  me  God" — He  was  instantly  hur 
ried  off  to  the  castle,  and  there  confined  for  ten  months 
in  a  email  room,  and  in  a  state  of  complete  separation 
from  his  fellow-prisoners,  and  in  total  ignorance  of  the 
advantages  gained  by  his  countrymen,  but  with  most 
ample  details  of  their  defeats,  and  particularly  of  the 
sequestration  of  his  estate  with  that  of  the  other  Caro 
lina  rebels." 

After  Andre's  arrest,  Colonel  Glazier,  the  governor  of 
the  castle,  sent  to  advise  General  Gadsden  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  worst,  intimating  that  as  General  Wash 
ington  had  been  assured  of  retaliation,  if  Andre  was 
executed,  it  was  not  unlikely  that  he  would  be  the  per 
son  selected.  To  this,  message  he  magnanimously 


CHRISTOPHER   GADSDEN.  86 

replied,  "  That  he  was  always  prepared  to  die  for  his 
country,  and  that  he  would  rather  ascend  the  scaffold 
than  purchase  with  his  life  the  dishonour  of  his  country," 

"In  the  course  of  1781,  the  victories  of  General 
Greene  procured  an  equivalent  for  the  release  of  all  the 
prisoners  belonging  to  South  Carolina.  Mr.  Gadsden 
was  discharged  from  close  confinement  and  rejoined  his 
fellow-prisoners.  The  reciprocal  congratulations  on  the 
change  of  circumstances  and  on  seeing  each  other  after 
ten  months  separation,  though  in  the  same  garrison,  may 
be  more  easily  conceived  than  expressed.  They  were 
all  conveyed  by  water  from  St.  Augustine  to  Philadel 
phia,  and  there  delivered.  On  their  arrivul  they  were 
informed,  for  the  first  time,  of  the  happy  turn  American 
affairs  had  taken  subsequent  to  Gate's  defeat.  Gen. 
Gadsden  hastened  back  to  Carolina  to  aid  in  recovering 
it  from  the  British.  He  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
assembly  which  met  at  Jacksonborough  in  1782. 

General  Gadsden  continued  in  the  country  through 
out  the  year  1782,  serving  as  one  of  the  governor's  coun 
cil.  On  the  14th  of  December,  1782,  he  with  the 
American  army  and  citizens,  made  their  triumphant 
entry  into  Charleston  in  the  rear  of  the  evacuating  Brit 
ish.  In  the  first  moment  of  his  return,  after  an  absence 
of  more  than  two  years,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  British  fleet,  upward  of  300  sail,  in  the  act  of  de 
parting  from  the  port,  and  the  capital,  as  well  as  the 
country,  restored  to  its  proper  owners.  Mr.  Gadsden 
henceforward  devoted  himself  to  private  pursuits,  but 
occasionally  served  in  the  assembly,  and  with  unspeak 
able  delight  in  the  two  state  conventions;  the  one  for 
the  ratification  of  the  national  constitution  in  1788,  and 
the  other  for  revising  the  state  constitution  in  1790. 

He  survived  his  8 1st  year,  generally  enjoying  good 
health,  and  at  last  died  more  from  the  consequences  of 
an  accidental  fall  than  the  weight  of  disease  or  decays 
of  nature. 

His  opinions  of  lawyers  were  not  favourable.  He 
considered  their  pleadings  as  generally  tending  to  ob 
scure  what  was  plain,  and  to  make  difficulties  where 
there  were  none ;  and  much  more  subservient  to  render 


S6  HORATIO  GATES. 

their  trade  lucrative,  than  to  advance  justice.  He  ad 
hered  to  that  clause  of  Mr.  Locke's  fundamental  con 
stitution,  which  makes  it  "  a  base  and  vile  thing  to  plead 
for  money  or  reward;"  and  wished  that  the  lawyers, 
when  necessary  to  justice,  should  be  provided  with  sal 
aries  at  the  public  expense,  like  the  judges,  that  they 
might  be  saved  from  the  shame  of  hiring  their  tongues 
to  the  first  who  offered  or  gave  the  largest  fee.  Of  phy 
sicians  he  thought  very  little.  He  considered  temper 
ance  and  exercise  superior  to  all  their  prescriptions, 
and  in  most  cases  they  rendered  them  altogether  unne 
cessary.  In  many  things  he  was  particular.  His  pas 
sions  were  strong,  and  required  all  his  religion  mid 
philosophy  to  curb  them.  His  patriotism  was  both 
disinterested  and  ardent.  He  declined  all  offices  of 
profit,  and  through  life  refused  to  take  the  compensations 
annexed  by  law  to  such  offices  of  trust  as  were  confer 
red  on  him.  His  character  was  impressed  with  the 
hardihood  of  antiquity;  and  he  possessed  an  erect,  firm, 
intrepid  mind,  which  was  well  calculated  for  buffeting 
with  revolutionary  storms."* 


HORATIO  GATES, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  GATES  was  a  native  of  England,  and  was 
born  in  the  year  1728.  He  was  educated  to  the  military 
profession,  and  entered  the  British  army  at  an  early  age, 
in  the  capacity  of  lieutenant,  where  he  laid  the  founda 
tion  of  his  future  military  excellence.  Without  purchase 
he  obtained  the  rank  of  major.  He  was  aid  to  Gen. 
Monckton,  at  the  capture  of  Martinico,  and  after  the 
peace  of  Aix  la  Chapelle  he  was  among  the  first  troops 
which  landed  at  Halifax  under  Gen.  Cornwallis.  He 
was  an  officer  of  the  army  which  accompanied  the  un 
fortunate  Braddock,  in  the  expedition  against  Fort  du 
Quesne,  in  the  year  1755,  and  was  shot  through  the 
body. 

When  peace  was  concluded,  he  purchased  an  estate 
in  Virginia,  where  he  resided  until  the  commencement  of 

^Ramsay's  Hist.  South   Carolina. 


HORATIO    GATES.  87 

the  American  war,  in  1775.  Having  evinced  his  zeal 
and  attachment  to  the  violated  rights  of  his  adopted 
country,  and  sustaining  a  high  military  reputation,  he 
was  appointed  by  congress  adjutant-general,  with  the 
rank  of  brigadier,  and  he  accompanied  Gen.  Washing 
ton  to  the  American  camp  at  Cambridge,  in  July,  1775, 
where  he  was  employed  for  some  time  in  a  subordinate, 
but  highly  useful  capacity. 

In  June,  1776,  Gates  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  the  army  of  Canada,  and  on  reaching  Ticonderoga  he 
fitill  claimed  the  command  of  it,  though  it  was  no  longer 
in  Canada,  and  was  in  the  department  of  Gen.  Schuyler, 
a  senior  officer,  who  had  rendered  eminent  services  in 
that  command.  On  representation  to  Congress,  it  was 
declared  not  to  be  their  intention  to  place  Gates  over 
Schuyler,  and  it  was  recommended  to  these  officers  to 
endeavour  to  co-operate  harmoniously.  Gen.  Schuyler 
was,  however,  shortly  after  directed  by  congress  to  re 
sume  the  command  of  the  northern  department,  and 
General  Gates  withdrew  himself  from  it;  after  which 
he  repaired  to  head-quarters,  and  joined  the  army  under 
General  Washington  in  Jersey. 

Owing  to  the  prevalent  dissatisfaction  with  the  con 
duct  of  General  Schuyler,  in  the  evacuation  of  Ticonde 
roga,*  Gates  was  again  directed  to  take  command.  He 
arrived  about  the  21st  of  August,  and  continued  the 
exertions  to  restore  the  affairs  of  the  department,  which 
had  been  so  much  depressed  by  the  losses  consequent 
on  the  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga.  It  was  fortunate 
for  General  Gates,  that  the  retreat  from  Ticonderoga 
had  been  conducted  under  other  auspices  than  his,  and 
that  he  took  the  command  when  the  indefatigable,  but 
unrequited  labours  of  Schuyler,  and  the  courage  of 
Stark  and  his  mountaineers,  had  already  ensured  the 
ultimate  defeat  of  Burgoyne. 

Burgoyne,  after  crossing  the  Hudson,  advanced  along 
its  side,  and  encamped  on  the  height,  about  two  miles 
from  Gate's  camp:  which  was  three  miles  above  Still- 
water.  This  movement  was  the  subject  of  much  dis* 
cussion.  Some  charged  it  on  the  impetuosity  of  the 

*Vide  Bio£.  of  General  Schuyler. 


88  HORATIO    GATES. 

general,  and  alleged  that  it  was  premature,  before  he 
was  sure  of  the  aid  from  the  royal  forces  posted  in  New 
York ;  but  he  pleaded  the  peremptory  orders  of  his  su 
periors.  The  rapid  advance  of  Burgoyne,  and  especial 
ly  his  passage  of  the  North  River,  added  much  to  the 
impracticability  of  his  future  retreat,  and  made  the  ruin 
of  his  army  in  a  great  degree  unavoidable.  The  Amer 
icans,  elated  with  their  successes  at  Bennington  and 
Fort  Schuyler,  thought  no  more  of  retreating,  but  came 
out  to  meet  the  advancing  British,  and  engaged  them 
with  firmness  and  resolution. 

The  attack  began  a  little  before  mid-day,  September 
19th,  between  the  scouting  parties  of  the  two  armies. 
The  commanders  of  both  sides  supported  and  reinfor 
ced  their  respective  parties.  The  conflict,  though  severe, 
was  only  partial  for  an  hour  and  a  half;  but  after  a  short 
pause,  it  became  general,  and  continued  for  three  hours 
without  any  intermission.  A  constant  blaze  of  fire  was 
kept  up,  and  both  armies  seemed  determined  on  death 
or  victory.  The  Americans  and  British  alternately 
drove,  and  were  driven  by  each  other.  The  British  ar 
tillery  fell  into  our  possession,  at  every  charge,  but  we 
could  neither  turn  the  pieces  upon  the  enemy  nor  bring 
them  off,  so  sudden  were  the  alternate  advantages.  It 
was  a  gallant  conflict,  in  which  death,  by  familiarity, 
lost  his  terrors;  and  such  was  the  order  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  that,  as  General  Wilkinson  states,  the  wounded 
men,  after  having  their  wounds  dressed,  in  many  instan 
ces  returned  again  into  the  battle.  Men,  and  particu 
larly  officers,  dropped  every  moment,  and  on  every  side. 
Several  of  the  Americans  placed  themselves  on  high 
trees,  and,  as  often  as  they  could  distinguish  an  officer's 
uniform,  took  him  off  by  deliberately  aiming  at  his  per 
son.  Few  actions  have  been  caharcterized  by  more  ob 
stinacy  in  attack  or  defence.  The  British  repeatedly 
tried  their  bayonets,  but  without  their  usual  success  in 
the  use  of  that  weapon. 

The  British  lost  upwards  of  500  men,  including  their 
killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners.  The  Americans,  inclu 
sive  of  the  missing,  lost  319.  Thirty-six  out  of  forty- 
flight  British  artillerists  were  killed  or  wounded.  The 


HORATIO    GATES. 

62d  British  Regiment,  which  was  .500  strong,  when  it 
left  Canada,  was  reduced  to  60  men,  and  4  or  5  officers. 
In  this  engagement  General  Gates,  assisted  by  Generals 
Lincoln  and  Arnold,  commanded  the  American  army, 
and  General  Burgoyne  was  at  the  head  of  his  army, 
and  Generals  Phillips,  Reidesel,  and  Frazer,  with  their 
respective  commands,  were  actively  engaged. 

This  battle  was  fought  by  the  general  concert  and 
zealous  co-operation  of  the  corps  engaged,  and  was  sus 
tained  more  by  individual  courage  than  military  disci 
pline.  General  Arnold,  who  afterward  traitorously 
deserted  his  country,  behaved  with  the  most  undaunted 
courage,  leading  on  the  troops  and  encouraging  them  by 
his  personal  efforts  and  daring  exposure.  The  gallant 
Colonel  Morgan  obtained  immortal  honour  on  this  day. 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Brooks,  with  the  eight  Massachu 
setts  regiments,  remained  in  the  field  till  about  eleven 
o'clock,  and  was  the  last  who  retired.  Major  Hall  com 
manded  a  detachment  of  three  hundred  men,  who  fought 
with  such  signal  ardour,  that  more  than  half  of  them 
were  killed.  The  whole  number  of  Americans  engaged 
in  this  action,  was  about  two  thousand  five  hundred; 
the  remainder  of  the  army,  from  its  unfavourable  situa 
tion,  took  little  or  no  part  in  the  action. 

Each  army  claimed  the  victory,  and  each  believed 
himself  to  have  beaten  with  only  part  of  its  f;>rce,  near 
ly  the  whole  of  the  enemy.  The  advantage  how 
ever  was  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  Americans.  In 
every  quarter  they  had  been  the  assailants,  and  after 
an  encounter  of  several  hours  they  had  not  lost  a  single 
inch  of  ground. 

General  Gates,  whose  numbers  increased  daily,  re 
mained  on  his  old  ground.  His  right,  which  extended 
to  the  river,  had  been  rendered  unassailable,  and  he 
used  great  industry  to  strengthen  his  left. 

Both  armies  retained  their  position  until  the  7th  of 
October;  Burgoyne,  in  the  hope  of  being  relieved  by 
Sir  Henry  Clinton;  and  Gates,  in  the  confidence  of 
growing  stronger  every  day,  and  of  rendering  the  des 
truction  of  his  enemy  more  certain.  But  receiving  no 
further  intelligence  from  Sir  Henry,  the  British  General 

M 


90  HORATIO    GATES. 

determined  to  make  one  more  trial  of  strength  with  his 
adversary.  The  following  account  of  the  brilliant  af 
fair  of  the  7th  of  Oct.  1777,  is  given  in  Thatcher'sM  ili- 
tary  Journal. 

"I  am  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  from  our  officers,  a 
particular  account  of  the  glorious  event  of  the  7th  inst. 
The  advanced  parties  of  the  two  armies  came  into  con 
tact,  about  three  o'clock  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  and 
immediately  displayed  their  hostile  attitude.  The 
Americans  soon  approached  the  royal  army,  and  each 
party  in  defiance  awaited  the  deadly  blow.  The  gallant 
Colonel  Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  famous  rifle  corps, 
and  Major  Dearborn,  leading  a  detachment  of  infantry, 
commenced  the  action,  and  rushed  courageously  on  the 
British  grenadiers,  commanded  by  Major  Ackland;  and 
the  furious  attack  was  firmly  resisted.  In  all  parts  of 
the  field,  the  conflict  became  extremely  arduous  and 
obstinate;  an  unconquerable  spirit  on  each  side  disdain 
ing  to  yield  the  palm  of  victory.  Death  appeared  to 
have  lost  his  terrors;  breaches  in  the  ranks  were  no 
sooner  made  than  supplied  by  fresh  combatants  awaiting 
a  similer  fate.  At  length  the  Americans  press  for 
ward  with  renewed  strength  and  ardour,  and  compel 
the  whole  British  line,  commanded  by  Burgoyne  him 
self,  to  yield  to  their  deadly  fire,  and  they  retreat  in 
disorder.  The  German  troops  remain  firmly  posted  at 
their  lines;  these  were  now  boldly  assaulted  by  Briga 
dier-General  Leonard,  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Brooks, 
at  the  head  of  their  respective  commands,  with  such 
intrepidity,  that  the  works  were  carried,  and  their  brave 
commander,  Lieut.  Colonel  Breyman,  was  slain.  The 
Germans  were  pursued  to  their  encampment,  which  with 
all  the  equipage  of  the  brigade  fell  into  our  hands. — 
Colonel  Cilley,  of  General  Poor's  brigade,  having  ac 
quitted  himself  honourably,  was  seen  astride  on  a  brass 
field-piece,  exulting  in  the  capture.  Major  Hall  of  the 
Massachusetts  line  was  among  those  who  so  bravely 
stormed  the  enemy's  entrenchment,  and  acted  a  con 
spicuous  part.  General  Arnold,  in  consequence  of  a 
serious  misunderstanding  with  General  Gates,  was  not 
vested  with  any  command,  by  which  he  was  exceedingly 


HORATIO    GATES.  9l 

chagrined  and  irritated.  He  entered  the  field,  however, 
and  his  conduct  was  marked  with  intemperate  rashness; 
flourishing  his  sword  and  animating  the  troops,  he  struck 
an  officer  on  the  head  without  cause,  and  gave  him  a 
considerable  wound.  He  exposed  himself  to  every  dan 
ger,  and  with  a  small  party  of  riflemen,  rushed  into  the 
rear  of  the  enemy,  where  he  received  a  ball  which  frac 
tured  his  leu;,  and  his  horse  was  killed  under  him. — 
Nightfall  put  a  stop  to  our  brilliant  career,  though  the 
victory  was  most  decisive,  and  it  was  with  pride  and 
exultation  that  we  recount  the  triumph  of  American 
bravery.  Besides  Lieutenant  Colonel  Breyman  slain, 
General  Frazer,  one  of  the  most  valuable  officers  in  the 
British  service,  was  mortally  wounded,  and  survived 
but  a  few  hours.  Frazer  was  the  soul  of  the  British 
army,  and  was  just  changing  the  disposition  of  a  part 
of  the  troops  to  repel  a  strong  impression  which  the 
Americans  had  made,  and  were  still  making,  on  the 
British  right,  when  Morgan  called  together  two  or  three 
of  his  best  marksmen,  and  pointing  to  Frazer,  said,  "  Do 
you  see  that  gallant  officer?  that  is  General  Frazer, — 
I  respect  and  honour  him;  but  it  is  necessary  he  should 
die."  This  was  enough.  Frazer  immediately  received 
his  mortal  wound,  and  was  carried  off  the  field.  Sir 
Francis  Clark,  aid-de-camp  to  General  Burgoyne,  was 
brought  into  our  camp  with  a  mortal  wound,  and  Major 
Ackland,  who  commanded  the  British  grenadiers,  was 
wounded  through  both  legs,  and  is  our  prisoner.  Sever 
al  other  officers, and  about  two  hundred  privates,  are 
prisoners  in  our  hands,  with  nine  pieces  of  cannon  and 
a  considerable  supply  of  ammunition,  which  was  much 
wanted  for  our  troops.  The  loss  on  our  side  is  supposed 
not  to  exceed  thirty  killed,  and  one  hundred  wounded, 
in  obtaining  this  signal  victory." 

The  position  of  the  British  army,  after  the  action  of 
the  7th,  was  so  dangerous  that  an  immediate  and  total 
change  of  position  became  necessary,  and  Burgoyne 
took  immediate  measures  to  regain  his  former  camp  at 
Saratoga.  There  he  arrived,  with  little  molestation 
from  his  adversary.  His  provisions  being  now  reduced 
to  the  supply  of  a  few  days,  the  transport  of  artillery 


92  HORATIO    GATES. 

and  baggage  towards  Canada,  being  rendered  impracti 
cable  by  the  judicious  measures  of  bis  adversary,  the 
British  general  resolved  upon  a  rapid  retreat,  merely 
with  what  the  soldiers  could  carry.  On  examination, 
however,  it  was  found  that  they  were  deprived  even  of 
this  resource,  as  the  passes  through  which  their  route 
lay,  were  so  strongly  guarded,  that  nothing  but  artillery 
could  clear  them.  In  this  desperate  situation  a  parley 
took  place,  and  on  the  16th  of  October,  the  whole  army 
surrendered  to  General  Gates. 

The  prize  obtained  consisted  of  more  than  five  thou 
sand  prisoners,  forty-two  pieces  of  brass  ordnance,  sev 
en  thousand  muskets,  clothing  for  seven  thousand  men, 
with  a  great  quantity  of  tents,  and  other  military  stores. 

Soon  after  the  convention  was  signed,  the  Americans 
marched  into  their  lines,  and  were  kept  there  until  the 
royal  army  had  deposited  their  arms  at  the  place  ap 
pointed.  The  delicacy  with  which  this  business  was 
conducted,  reflected  honour  on  the  American  general. 
Nor  did  the  politeness  of  Gates  end  here.  Every  cir 
cumstance  was  withheld  that  could  constitute  a  triumph 
in  the  American  army.  The  captive  general  \vas  re 
ceived  by  his  conqueror  with  respect  and  kindness.  A 
number  of  the  principal  officers,  of  both  armies,  met  at 
Gen.  Gates's  quarters,  and  for  a  \vhile  seemed  to  forget, 
in  social  and  convivial  pleasures,  that  they  had  been 
enemies. 

Gen.  Wilkinson  gives  the  following  account  of  the 
meeting  between  Gen.  Burgoyne  and  Gen.  Gates: — 

"Gen.  Gates,  advised  of  Burgoyne's  approach,  met 
him  at  the  head  of  his  camp,  Burgoyne  in  a  rich  royal 
uniform,  and  Gates  in  a  plain  blue  frock.  When  they 
had  approached  nearly  within  sword's  length  they 
reined  up  and  halted.  I  then  named  the  gentleman, 
and  Gen.  Burgoyne,  raising  his  hat  most  gracefully,  said, 
"The  fortune  of  war,  Gen.  Gates,  has  made,  me  your 
prisoner;"  to  which  the  conqueror,  returning  a  courtly 
salute,  promptly  replied,  "I  shall  always  be  ready  to 
bear  testimony  that  it  has  not  been  throug-h  any  fault  of 
your  excellency." 


HORATIO    GATES.  93 

The  thanks  of  Congress  were  voted  "to  Gen.  Gates 
ami  his  army;  and  a  medal  of  gold,  in  commemoration 
of  this  great  event,  was  ordered  to  be  struck,  to  be  pre 
sented  to  him  by  the  president,  in  the  name  of  the  United 
States. 

It  was  not  long  after,  that  the  wonderful  discovery 
was  supposed  to  be  made,  that  the  illustrious  Washing 
ton  was  incompetent  to  the  task  of  conducting  the  ope 
rations  of  the  American  army,  and  that  Gen.  Gates,  if 
elevated  to  the  chief  command,  would  speedily  meliorate 
the  condition  of  ou»  affairs.  There  were  those  who  im 
puted  to  General  Gates  himself,  a  principal  agency  in 
the  aifair,  which,  however,  he  promptly  disavowed. 
But  certain  it  is,  that  a  private  correspondence  was 
maintained  between  him  and  the  intriguing  General 
Conway,  in  which  the  measures  pursued  by  General 
Washington  are  criticised  and  reprobated,  and  in  one  of 
Conway's  letters,  he  pointedly  ascribes  our  want  of  suc 
cess  to  a  weak  general  and  bad  co-insellors.  General 
Gates,  on  finding  that  General  Washington  had  been 
apprised  of  the  correspondence,  addressed  his  Excel 
lency,  requesting  that  he  would  disclose  the  name  of 
his  informant,  and  in  violation  of  the  rules  of  decorum, 
he  addressed  the  commander-in-chief  on  a  subject  of 
extreme  delicacy  in  an  open  letter  transmitted  to  the 
president  of  congress.  Gen.  Washington,  however,  did 
not  hesitate  to  disclose  the  name  and  circumstances 
which  brought  the  affair  to  light.  Gen.  Gates  then,  with 
inexcusable  disingenuousness,  attempted  to  vindicate 
the  conduct  of  Conway,  and  to  deny  that  the  letter 
contained  the  reprehensible  expressions  in  question,  but 
utterly  refused  to  produce  the  original  letter.  This  sub 
ject,  however,  was  so  ably  and  candidly  discussed  by 
General  Washington,  as  to  cover  his  adversary  witli 
shame  and  humiliation.  It  was  thought  inexcusable  in 
Gates,  that  he  neglected  to  communicate  to  the  com 
mander-in-chief  an  account  of  so  important  an  event 
as  the  capture  of  the  British  army  at  Saratoga,  but  left 
his  Excellency  to  obtain  the  information  by  common 
report. 


94  HORATIO    GATES. 

Dr.  Thacher,in  his  Military  Journal,  relates  the  fol 
lowing  anecdote; — "Mr.  T ,  an  ensign  in  our  regi 
ment,  has,  for  some  time,  discovered  symptoms  of  mental 
derangement.  Yesterday  he  intruded  himself  at  Gen. 
Gates's  head-quarters,  and  after  some  amusing  conver 
sation,  he  put  himself  in  the  attitude  of  devotion,  and 
prayed  that  God  would  pardon  Gen.  Gates  for  endeav 
ouring  to  supersede  that  godlike  man,  Washington. 
The  general  appeared  to  be  much  disturbed,  and  direct 
ed  Mr.  Pierce,  his  aid-de-camp,  to  take  him  away." 

On  the  13th  of  June,  1780,  Gen.  Gates  was  appointed 
to  the  chief  command  of  the  southern  army.  Rich  in 
fame  from  the  fields  of  Saratoga,  he  hastened  to  execute 
the  high  and  important  trust:  and  the  arrival  of  an 
officer  so  exalted  in  reputation,  had  an  immediate  and 
happy  effect  on  the  spirits  of  the  soldiery  and  the  hopes 
of  the  people.  It  was  anticipated  that  he  who  had 
humbled  Great  Britain  on  the  heights  of  the  Hudson, 
and  liberated  New-York  from  a  formidable  invasion, 
would  prove  no  less  successful  in  the  south,  and  become 
the  deliverer  of  Carolina  and  Georgia  from  lawless 
rapine  and  military  rule.  But  anticipations  were  vain, 
and  the  best  founded  hopes  were  blighted!  In  the  first 
and  only  encounter  which  he  had  with  Lord  Cornwallis, 
at  Camden,  Aug.  15th,  he  suffered  a  total  defeat,  and 
was  obliged  to  fly  from  the  enemy  for  personal  safety. 

Proudly  calculating  on  the  weight  of  his  name,  and 
too  confident  in  his  own  superiority,  he  slighted  the 
counsel  which  he  ought  to  have  respected,  and  hunting 
impetuously  into  the  field  of  battle,  his  tide  of  popu 
larity  ebbed  as  fast  at  Camden  as  it  had  flowed  at 
Saratoga.* 

It  would  be  great  injustice,  however,  to  attribute  the 
misfortune  altogether  to  the  commander,  under  his  pe 
culiar  circumstances.  A  large  proportion  of  his  force 
consisted  of  raw  militia,  who  were  panic-struck,  and 
fled  at  the  first  fire; — their  rout  was  absolute  and  irre 
trievable.  In  vain  did  Gates  attempt  to  rally  them. 

*When  the  appointment  of  Gen.  Gates  to  the  chief  command  of  the 
southern  Armyras  announced,  Gen.  Lee,  remarked,  that  "  his  northern 
taurds  would  soon  be  exchanged  for  southern  willows.'''' 


HORATIO    GATES.  95 

That  their  speed  might  be  the  greater,  they  threw  away 
the;r  amis  and  accoutrements,  and  dashed  into  the 
woods  and  swamps  for  safety.  A  rout  more  perfectly 
wild  and  disorderly,  or  marked  with  greater  consterna 
tion  and  dismay,  was  never  witnessed.  Honour,  man 
hood,  country,  home,  every  recollection  sacred  to  the 
feelings  of  the  soldier,  and  the  soul  of  the  brave,  was 
merged  in  an  ignominious  love  of  life. 

But  from  the  moment  Gen.  Gates  assumed  the  com 
mand  in  the  south,  his  former  judgment  and  fortune 
seemed  to  forsake  him.  He  was  anxious  to  come  to 
action  immediately,  and  to  terminate  the  war  by  a  few 
bold  and  energetic  measures;  and  two  days  after  his 
arrival  in  camp,  he  began  his  march  to  meet  the  enemy, 
without  properly  estimating  his  force. 

The  active  spirits  of  the  place  being  roused  and  en 
couraged,  by  the  presence  of  a  considerable  army,  and 
daily  flocking  to  the  standard  of  their  country,  General 
Gates,  by  a  delay  of  action,  had  much  to  gain  in  point 
of  numbers.  To  the  prospects  of  the  enemy,  on  the 
contrary,  delay  would  have  been  ruinous.  To  them 
there  was  no  alternative  but  immediate  battle  and  vic 
tory,  or  immediate  retreat.  Such,  however,  was  the 
nature  of  the  country,  aud  the  distance  and  relative 
position  of  the  two  armies,  that  to  compel  the  Ameri 
cans  to  action  was  impossible.  The  imprudence  of  the 
American  general  in  hazarding  an  engagement,  at  this 
time,  is  further  manifested  by  the  fact,  that  in  troops,  on 
whose  firmness  he  could  safely  rely,  he  was  greatly 
inferior  to  his  foe,  they  amounting  to  sixteen  hundred 
veteran  and  highly  disciplined  regulars,  and  he  having 
less  than  a  thousand  continentals. 

Gen.  Gates  having  retreated  to  Salisbury,  and  thence 
to  Hillsborough,  he  there  succeeded  in  collecting  around 
him  the  fragments  of  an  army.  Being  soon  after  rein 
forced  by  several  small  bodies  of  regulars  and  militia, 
he  again  advanced  towards  the  south,  and  took  post  in 
Charlotte.  Here  he  continued  in  command  until  the 
5th  day  of  October,  fifty  days  after  his  defeat  at  Cam- 
den,  when  Congress  passed  a  resolution  requiring  the 
commander  in  chief  to  order  a  court  of  inquiry  on  his 


96  HORATIO    GATES. 

conduct,  as  commmander  of  the  southern  army,  and  to 
appoint  some  other  officer  to  that  command.  The  in 
quiry  resulted  in  his  acquittal:  and  it  was  the  general 
opinion  that  he  was  not  treated  by  congress  with  that 
delicacy,  or  indeed  gratitude,  that  was  due  to  an  officer 
of  his  acknowledged  merit.  He,  however,  received  the 
order  of  his  supersedure  and  suspension,  and  resigned 
the  command  to  Gen.  Greene  with  becoming  dignity,  as 
is  manifested,  much  to  his  credit,  in  the  following 
order: — 

"  Head- Quarters,  Charlotte,  3d  December,  1730. 
Parole,  Springfield — countersign,  Greene. 

The  honourable  Major-General  Greene,  who  arrived 
yesterday  afternoon  in  Charlotte,  being  appointed  by 
his  excellency  General  Washington,  with  the  approba 
tion  of  the  honourable  congress,  to  the  command  of  the 
southern  army, all  orders  will,  for  the  future,  issue  from 
him,  and  all  reports  are  to  be  made  to  him. 

General  Gates  returns  his  sincere  and  grateful  thanks 
to  the  southern  army  for  their  perseverance,  fortitude, 
and  patient  endurance  of  all  the  hardships  and  suffer 
ings  they  have  undergone  while  under  his  command. 
He  anxiously  hopes  their  misfortunes  will  cease  there 
with,  and  that  victory,  and  the  glorious  advantages  of 
it,  may  be  the  future  portion  of  the  southern  army." 

General  Greene  had  always  been,  and  continued  to 
be,  the  firm  advocate  of  the  reputation  of  General 
Gates,  particularly  if  he  heard  it  assailed  with  asperity; 
and  still  believed  and  asserted,  that  if  there  was  any 
mistake  in  the  conduct  of  Gates,  it  was  in  hazarding  an 
action  at  all  against  such  superior  force;  and  when  in 
formed  of  his  appointment  to  supersede  him,  declared  his 
confidence  in  his  military  talents,  and  his  willingness 
"to  serve  under  him/' 

General  Gates  was  reinstated  in  his  military  com 
mand  in  the  main  army,  in  1782;  but  the  great  scenes 
of  war  were  now  passed,  and  he  could  only  participate 
in  the  painful  scene  of  a  final  separation. 

In  the    midst    of  his   misfortune,    General    Gates 
was  called    to   mourn   the   afflictive    dispensation    of 


HORATIO    GATES.  £7 

Providence,  in  the  death  of  his  only  son.  Major  Garden, 
in  his  excellent  publication,  has  recorded  the  following 
affecting  anecdote,  which  he  received  from  Dr.  \\illiam 
Reed:— 

"  Having  occasion  to  call  on  General  Gates,  relative 
to  the  business  of  the  department  under  my  immediate 
charge,  I  found  him  traversing  the  apartment  which  lie 
occupied,  under  the  influence  of  high  excitement;  his 
agitation  was  excessive — every  feature  of  his  counte 
nance,  every  gesture  betrayed  it.  Official  despatches 
informing  him  that  he  was  superseded,  and  that  the 
command  of  the  southern  armv  had  been  transferred  to 
General  Greene,  had  just  been  received  and  perused  by 
him.  His  countenance,  however,  betrayed  no  expres 
sion  of  irritation  or  resentment;  it  was  sensibility  alone 
that  caused  his  emotion.  An  open  letter,  which  he  held 
in  his  hand,  was  often  raised  to  his  lips,  and  kissed  with 
devotion,  while  the  exclamation  repeatedly  escaped 
them — u  great  man !  Noble,  generous  procedure !"  VV  hen 
jhe  tumult  of  his  mind  had  subsided,  and  his  thoughts 
found  utterance,  he,  with  strong  expression  of  feeling, 
exclaimed — "  I  have  received  this  day  a  communication' 
from  the  commander-in-chief,  which  has  conveyed  more 
consolation  to  my  bosom,  more  ineffable  delight  to  my 
heart,  than  I  had  believed  it  possible  for  it  ever  to  have 
felt  again.  With  affectionate  tenderness  he  sympathi 
zes  with  me  in  my  domestic  misfortunes,  and  condoles 
with  me  on  the  loss  I  have  sustained  by  the  recent  death 
of  an  only  son;  and  then  with  peculiar  delicacy,  lamen 
ting  my  misfortune  in  battle,  assures  me,  that  his  confi 
dence  in  my  zeal  and  capacity  is  so  little  impaired,  that 
the  command  of  the  right  wing  of  the  army  will  be  be 
stowed  on  me  so  soon  as  I  can  make  it  convenient  to  join 
him." 

After  the  peace,  he  retired  to  his  farm  in  Berkley 
county,  Va.  where  he  remained  until  the  year  1790, 
when  he  went  to  reside  in  New  York,  having  first  eman 
cipated  his  slaves,  and  made  a  pecuniary  provision  for 
such  as  were  not  able  to  provide  for  themselves.  Some 
of  them  would  not  leave  him,  but  continued  in  his  family, 

N 


98  NATHANIEL  GREENE. 

On  his  arrival  at  New  York,  the  freedom  of  the  city 
was  presented  to  him.  In  1800  he  accepted  a  seat  in 
the  legislature,  but  he  retained  it  no  longer  than  he  con 
ceived  his  services  might  be  useful  to  the  cause  of  liberty, 
which  he  never  abandoned." 

His  political  opinions  did  not  separate  him  from  many 
respectable  citizens,  whose  views  differed  widely  from 
his  own.  He  had  a  handsome  person,  and  was  gentle 
manly  in  his  manners,  remarkably  courteous  to  all,  and 
gave  indisputable  marks  of  social,  amiable,  and  benev 
olent  disposition.  A  few  weeks  before  his  death,  he 
closed  a  letter  to  a  friend  in  the' following  words: — "I 
am  very  weak,  and  have  evident  sigrfs  of  an  approach 
ing  dissolution.  But  I  have  lived,  long  enough,  since  I 
have  to  see  a  mighty  people  animated  with  a  spirit  to 
be  free,  and  governed  by  transcendent  abilities  and 
honour."  He  died  without  posterity,  at  his  abode  near 
New  York,  on  the  10th  day  of  April,  1806,  aged  78 
years. 

NATHANIEL  GREENE, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  GREENE,  although  descended  from  ancestors 
of  elevated  standing,  was  not  indebted  to  the  condition 
of  his  family,  for  any  part  of  the  real  lustre  and  reputa 
tion  he  possessed.  He  was  literally  the  founder  of  his 
own  fortune,  and  the  author  of  his  own  fame.  He  was 
the  second  son  of  Nathaniel  Greene,  a  member  of  the 
society  of  Friends,  an  anchor  smith. 

He  was  born  in  the  year  1741,  in  the  town  of  War 
wick,  and  County  of  Kent,  in  the  province  of  Rhode 
Island.  Being  intended  by  his  father  for  the  business 
which  he  himself  pursued,  young  Greene  received  at 
school,  nothing  but  the  elements  of  a  common  English 
education.  But  to  him,  an  education  so  limited,  was 
unsatisfactory.  \Vith  such  funds  as  he  was  able  to 
raise,  he  purchased  a  small,  but  well  selected  library, 
and  spent  his  evenings,  and  all  the  time  he  could  redeem 
from  his  father's  business,  in  regular^study. 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  99 

At  a  period  of  life,  unusually  early,  Greene  was  ele 
vated,  by  a  very  flattering  suffrage,  to  a  seat  in  the 
legislature  of  his  native  colony.  This  was  the  com 
mencement  of  a  public  career,  which,  heightening  as  it 
advanced,  and  flourishing  in  the  midst  of  difficulties, 
closed  with  a  lustre  that  was  peculiarly  dazzling. 

Thus  introduced  into  the  councils  of  his  country,  at 
a  time  when  the  rights  of  the  subject,  and  the  powers  of 
the  ruler,  were  beginning  to  be  topics  of  liberal  discus 
sion,  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  avow  his  sentiments  on  the 
momentous  question.  Nor  did  he  pause  or  waver,  as  to 
the  principles  he  should  adopt,  and  the  decision  he 
should  form.  He  was  inflexibly  opposed  to  tyranny  and 
oppression  in  every  shape,  and  manfully  avowed  it. 
But  his  character,  although  forming,  was  not  completely 
developed  until  the  commencement  of  the  troubles  which 
terminated  in  our  independence.  It  was  then  that  he 
aspired  to  a  head  in  the  public  councils;  and  throwing 
from  him,  as  unsuitable  to  the  times,  the  peaceful  habits 
in  which  he  had  been  educated,  sternly  declared  for  a 
redress  of  grievances,  or  open  resistance.  This  open 
departure  from  the  sectarian  principles  in  which  he  had 
been  educated,  was  followed,  of  course,  by  his  immedi 
ate  dismission  from  the  society  of  Friends. 

r\  he  sword  was  earliest  unsheathed  in  the  colony  of 
Massachusetts;  and  on  the  plains  of  Lexington  and 
Concord,  the  blood  of  British  soldiers,  and  Ameri 
can  subjects,  mingled  first  in  hostile  strife.  Nor  was 
Rhode  Island,  after  that  sanguinary  affair,  behind  her 
sister  colonies,  in  gallantry  of  spirit,  and  promptitude  of 
preparation. 

Greene  commenced  his  military  pupilage  in  the  capa 
city  of  di  private  soldier,  in  Oct.  1774,  in  a  military  asso 
ciation,  commanded  by  James  M.  Varnum,  afterward 
brigadier-general.  But  Rhode  Island  having  in  the 
month  of  May,  1775,  raised  three  regiments  of  mil 
itia,  she  placed  them  under  the  command  of  Greene, 
who  without  loss  of  time  conducted  them  to  head-quar 
ters,  in  the  village  of  Cambridge. 

On  the  2d  of  July,  177.0,  General  Washington,  invested 
by  congress  with  the  command  in  chief  of  the  armies  of 


100  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

his  country,  arrived  at  Boston.  Greene  availed  himself 
of  an  early  opportunity  amid  the  public  demonstration 
of  joy,  to  welcome  the  commander  in  chief,  in  a  per 
sonal  address,  in  which,  with  much  warmth  of  feeling, 
and  kindness  of  expression,  he  avowed  his  attachment 
to  his  person,  and  the  high  gratification  he  derived  from 
the  prospect  of  being  associated  with  him  in  aims,  and 
serving  under  him  in  defence  of  the  violated  rights  of 
his  country. 

This  was  a  happy  prelude  to  a  friendship  between 
these  two  great  and  illustrious  officers,  which  death, 
alone,  had  the  power  to  dissolve.  It  is  a  fact  of  notori 
ety, that  when  time  and  acquaintance  had  made  him  tho 
roughly  acquainted  with  the  character  and  merits  of 
General  Greene,  Washington  entertained,  and  frequently 
expressed  an  anxious  wish,  that,  in  case  of  his  death 
he  might  be  appointed  his  successor  to  the  supreme  com 
mand. 

During  the  investment  of  Boston,  by  the  American 
forces,  a  state  of  things,  which  lasted  for  months,  no 
opportunity  presented  itself  to  Greene,  to  acquire  dis 
tinction  by  personal  exploit.  But  his  love  of  action, 
and  spirit  of  adventure,  were  strongly  manifested;  for  he 
was  one  of  the  few  officers  of  rank,  who  concurred  with 
General  Washington,  in  the  propriety  of  attempting  to 
carry  the  town  by  assault. 

On  the  evacuation  of  Boston  by  the  British,  the 
.American  troops  were  permitted  to  repose  from  their 
toils,  and  to  exchange  for  a  time,  the  hardships  and  pri 
vations  of  a  field  encampment,  for  the  enjoyment  of 
plenty,  in  comfortable  barracks.  During  this  period  of 
relaxation,  Greene  continued  with  unabating  industry 
his  military  studies,  and  as  far  as  opportunity  served, 
his  attention  to  the  practical  duties  of  the  field.  This 
course,  steadily  pursued,  under  the  immediate  supervis 
ion  of  Washington,  could  scarcely  fail  to  procure  rank, 
nnd  lead  to  eminence.  Accordingly,  on  the  26th  of 
August,  1776.  he  was  promoted  by  congress  to  the  rank 
of  major-general  in  the  regular  army. 

A  crisis,  most  glowing,  and  portentous  to  the  cause  of 
freedom,  had  now  arrived.     In  the  retreat  which  now 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  101 

commenced,  through  New-Jersey,  General  Washington 
was  Accompanied  by  General  Greene,  and  receive:!  from 
him  all  the  aid.  that,  under  circumstances  so  dark  and 
unpromising,  talents,  devotion,  and  firmness  could  afford. 
Possessed  alike  of  an  ardent  temperament,  hearts  that 
neither  danger  nor  misfortune  could  appal,  and  an  in 
spiring  trust  in  the  righteousness  of  their  cause,  it  be 
longed  to  the  character  of  these  two  great  and  illustri 
ous  commanders,  never  for  a  moment  to  despair  of  their 
country.  Hope  and  confidence,  even  now,  beamed  from 
their  countenances,  and  they  encouraged  their  followers, 
and  supported  them  under  the  pressure  of  defeat  and 
misfortune. 

Greene  was  one  of  the  council  of  Washington,  who 
resolved  on  the  enterprise  of  the  26th  of  December, 
1776,  against  the  post  of  the  enemy  at  Trenton.  The 
issue  is  known,  and  is  glorious  in  our  history.  About 
one  thousand  Hessians,  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prison 
ers,  with  their  arms,  field  equipage,  and  artillery,  were 
the  trophies  of  that  glorious  morning,  which  opened  on 
the  friends  of  American  freedom,  with  the  daystar  of 
hope.  He  was  again  of  the  council  of  the  commander 
in  chief,  in  planning  the  daring  attack  of  the  2d  of  Jan 
uary,  1777,  on  the  British  garrison  at  Princeton,  as  well 
his  associate  in  achieving  its  execution.  In  both  these 
brilliant  actions,  his  gallantry,  prudence,  and  skill  being 
alike  conspicuous,  he  received  the  applauses  of  his  com 
mander.  He  continued  the  associate  and  most  confiden 
tial  counsellor  of  Washington  through  the  gloomy  and 
ominous  period  that  followed. 

In  the  obstinate  and  bloody  battle  of  Brandywine, 
General  Greene,  by  his  distinguished  conduct,  added 
greatly  to  his  former  renown.  In  the  course  of  it,  a  de 
tachment  of  American  troops,  commanded  by  General 
Sullivan,  being  unexpectedly  attacked  by  the  enemy, 
retreated  in  disorder.  General  Greene,  at  the  head  of 
W^eedon's  Virginia  brigade  flew  to  their  support.  On 
approaching,  he  found  the  defeat  of  General  Sullivan  a 
perfect  rout.  Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.  Throwing 
himself  into  the  rear  of  his  flying  countrymen,  and  re 
treating  slowly,  he  kept  up,  especially  from  his  cannon, 


102  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

so  destructive  a  fire,  as  greatly  to  retard  the  advance  of 
the  enemy.  Aiming  at  length  at  a  narrow  defile,  secur 
ed  on  the  right  and  left  by  a  thick  woods,  he  halted,  sent 
forward  his  cannon,  that  they  might  be  out  of  danger,  in 
case  of  his  being  compelled  to  a  hasty  retreat,  and  form 
ed  his  troops,  determined  to  dispute  the  pass  with  his 
small  arms.  This  he  effected  with  complete  success, 
notwithstanding  the  vast  superiority  of  the  assailants; 
until  after  a  conflict  of  more  than  an  hour  and  a  half, 
night  came  on,  and  brought  it  to  a  close.  But  for  this 
quick-sighted  interposition,  Sullivan's  detachment  must 
have  been  nearly  annihilated. 

On  this  occasion,  only,  did  the  slightest  misunder 
standing  ever  occur,  between  General  Greene  and  the 
commander  in-chief.  In  his  general  orders,  after  the 
battle,  the  latter  neglected  to  bestow  any  special  ap 
plause  on  Weedon's  brigade.  Against  this,  General 
Greene  remonstrated  in  person. 

General  Washington  replied,  "You,  Sir,  are  consider 
ed  my  favorite  officer.  Weedon's  brigade,  like  myself, 
are  Virginians.  Should  I  applaud  them  for  their 
achievement,  under  your  command,  I  shall  be  charged 
with  partiality:  jealousy  will  be  excited,  and  the  ser 
vice  injured." 

"Sir,"  exclaimed  Greene  with  considerable  emotion, 
"I  trust  your  Excellency  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe 
that  I  am  not  selfish.  In  my  own  behalf,  I  have  nothing 
to  ask.  Act  toward  me  as  you  please ;  I  shall  not  com 
plain.  However  richly  I  prize  your  Excellency's  good 
opinion  and  applause,  a  consciousness  that  I  have  en 
deavored  to  do  my  duty,  constitutes  at  present,  my  rich 
est  reward.  But  do  not,  Sir,  let  me  entreat  you,  on  ac 
count  of  the  jealousy  that  may  arise  in  little  minds, 
withhold  justice  from  the  brave  fellows  I  had  the  honor 
to  command." 

Convinced  that  prudence  forbade  the  special  notice 
requested,  the  commander-in-chief  persisted  in  his  si 
lence.  Greene,  on  cool  reflection,  appreciated  the  mo 
tives  of  his  general,  and  lost  no  time  in  apologizing  for 
his  intemperate  manner,  if  not  for  his  expressions.  De 
lighted  with  his  frankness  and  magnanimity,  Washington 


NATttANIEL   GREENE.  103 

replied  with  a  smile, — "  An  officer,  tried  as  you  have 
been,  who  errs  but  once  in  two  years,  deserves  to  be 
forgiven." — With  that,  he  offered  him  his  hand,  and  the 
matter  terminated. 

Following  General  Greene  in  his  military  career,  he 
next  presents  himself  on  the  plains  of  Germantown. 
In  this  daring  assault  he  commanded  the  left  wing  of 
the  American  army,  and  his  utmost  endeavours  were 
used  to  retrieve  the  fortune  of  the  day,  in  which  his 
conduct  met  the  approbation  of  the  commander-in-chief. 
Lord  Cornwallis,  to  whom  he  was  often  opposed,  had 
the  magnanimity  to  bestow  upon  him  a  lofty  encomium. 
"  Greene,"  said  he,  "  is  as  dangerous  as  Washington. 
He  is  vigilant,  enterprising,  and  full  of  resources.  With 
but  little  hope  of  gaining  any  advantage  over  him,  I  nev 
er  feel  secure  when  encamped  in  his  neighbourhood." 

At  this  period  the  quarter-master  department,  in  the 
American  army,  was  in  a  very  defective  and  alarming 
condition,  and  required  a  speedy  and  radical  reform: 
and  General  Washington  declared,  that  such  reform 
could  be  effected  only  by  the  appointment  of  a  quarter 
master-general,  of  great  resources,  well  versed  in  busi 
ness,  and  possessing  practical  talents  of  the  first  order. 
When  requested  by  Congress  to  look  out  for  such  an 
officer,  he,  at  once,  fixed  his  eye  on  General  Greene. 

Washington  well  knew  that  the  soul  of  Greene  was 
indissolubly  wedded  to  the  duties  of  line.  Notwith 
standing  this,  he  expressed,  in  conversation  with  a  mem 
ber  of  Congress,  his  entire  persuasion,  that  if  General 
Greene  could  be  convinced  of  his  ability  to  render  his 
country  greater  services  in  the  quarter-master  depart 
ment,  than  in  the  field,  he  would  at  once  accept  the 
appointment.  "  There  is  not,"  said  he,  "  an  officer  of 
the  army,  nor  a  man  in  America,  more  sincerely  attached 
to  the  interests  of  his  country.  Could  he  best  promote 
their  interests,  in  the  character  of  a  corporal,  he  would 
exchange,  as  I  firmly  believe,  without  a  murmur,  the 
epaulet  for  the  knot.  For  although  he  is  not  without 
ambition;  that  ambition  has  not  for  its  object  the  highes* 
rank  so  much  as  the  greatest  good" 


104  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

When  the  appointment  was  first  offered  General 
Greene,  lie  declined  it,  but  after  a  conference  with  the 
commander-in-chief,  he  consented  to  an  acceptance,  on 
condition  that  he  should  forfeit  nothing  of  his  right  to 
command,  in  time  of  action.  On  these  terms  he  receiv 
ed  the  appointment  on  the  22d  of  March,  1 778,  and  en 
tered  immediately  on  the  duties  of  the  office. 

In  this  station  he  fully  answered  the  expectations 
formed  of  his  abilities;  and  enabled  the  American  army 
to  move  with  additional  celerity  and  vigour. 

During  his  administration  of  the  quarter-master  de 
partment,  he  took,  on  two  occasions^  high  and  distin 
guished  part  in  the  field  ;  the  first  in  the  battle  of  Mon- 
rnouth  ;  the  second  in  a  very  brilliant  expedition  against 
the  enemy  in  Rhode  Island,  under  the  command  of  Gen, 
Sullivan.  At  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  the  commander- 
in-chief,  disgusted  with  the  behaviour  of  General  Lee, 
deposed  him  in  the  field  of  battle,  and  appointed  Gen. 
Greene  to  command  the  right  wing,  where  he  greatly 
contributed  to  retrieve  the  errors  of  his  predecessor, 
and  to  the  subsequent  events  of  the  day. 

His  return  to  his  native  state  was  hailed  by  the  inhab 
itants,  with  general  and  lively  demonstrations  of  joy, 
Even  the  leading  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  who 
had  reluctantly  excluded  him  from  their  communion,  of 
ten  visited  him  at  his  quarters,  and  expressed  their 
sincere  satisfaction  at  the  elevation  he  had  attained  in 
the  confidence  of  his  country.  One  of  these  plain  gen- 
temen  being  asked,  in  jest,  by  a  young  officer,  how  he, 
as  an  advocate  of  peace,  could  reconcile  it  to  his  con 
science,  to  keep  so  much  company  with  General  Greene, 
whose  profession  was  war? — promptly  replied,  u  Friend 
it  is  not  a  suit  of  uniform  that  can  either  make  or  spoil 
a  man.  True,  I  do  not  approve  of  this  many  coloured 
apparel,  (tothe  officer's  dress,)  but  whatever  may  be  the 
form  or  colour  of  his  coat,  Nathaniel  Greene  still  retains 
the  same  sound  head  and  virtuous  heart,  that  gained 
him  the  love  and  esteem  of  our  Society." 

During  the  year  1779,  General  Greene  was  occupied 
exclusively  in  the  extensive  concerns  of  the  quarter 
master  department. 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  105 

About  this  time  Gen.  Greene  was  called  to  the  per 
formance  of  a  duty,  the  most  trying  and  painful  he  had 
ever  encountered.  We  allude  to  the  melancholy  affair 
of  Major  Andre,  adjutant-general  to  the  British  army, 
who  was  captured  in  disguise  within  the  American  lines. 
Washington  detailed  a  court  for  this  trial,  composed  of 
fourteen  general  officers,  La  Fayette  and  Steuben  being- 
two  of  the  number,  and  appointed  general  Greene  to 
preside. 

When  summoned  to  his  trial,  Andre  frankly  disclosed 
without  interrogatory,  what  bore  heaviest  on  his  own 
life,  but  inviolably  concealed  whatever  might  endanger 
the  safety  of  others.  His  confessions  were  conclusive, 
and  no  witness  was  examined  against  him.  The  court 
were  unanimous,  that  he  had  been  taken  as  a  spy,  and 
must  suffer  death.  Of  this  sentence  he  did  not  complain, 
but  wished  that  he  might  be  -permitted  to  close  a  life  of 
honour  by  a  professional  death,  and  not  be  compelled, 
like  a  common  felon,  to  expire  on  a  gibbet.  To  effect 
this,  he  made  in  a  letter  to  General  Washington,  one  of 
the  most  powerful  and  pathetic  appeals,  that  ever  fell 
from  the  pen  of  a  mortal. 

Staggered  in  his  resolution,  the  commander-in-chief 
referred  the  subject,  accompanied  by  the  letter,  to  his 
general  officers,  who,  with  one  exception,  became  unan 
imous  in  their  desire  that  Andre  should  be  shot. 

That  exception  was  found  in  General  Greene,  the 
president  of  the  court.  "Andre,"  said  he,  *4is  either  a 
spy  or  an  innocent  man.  If  the  latter,  to  execute  him, 
in  any  way,  will  be  murder;  if  the  former,  the  mode  of 
his  death  is  prescribed  by  law,  and  you  have  no  right 
to  alter  it.  Nor  is  this  all.  At  the  present  alarming 
crisis  of  our  affairs,  the  public  safety  calls  for  a  solemn 
and  impressive  example.  Nothing  can  satisfy  it,  short 
of  the  execution  of  the  prisoner,  as  a  common  spy;  a 
character  of  which  his  own  confession  has  clearly  con 
victed  him.  Beware  how  you  suffer  your  feelings  to 
triumph  over  your  judgment.  Indulgence  to  one  may 
be  death  to  thousands  Besides,  if  you  shoot  the  pris 
oner,  instead  of  hanging  him,  you  will  excite  suspicion, 
which  you  will  be  unable  to  allay.  Notwithstanding 

O 


106  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

all  your  efforts  to  the  contrary,  you  will  awaken  public 
compassion,  and  the  belief  will  become  general,  that,  in 
the  case  of  Major  Andre,  there  were  exculpatory  circum 
stances,  entitling  him  to  lenity,  beyond  what  he  receiv 
ed — perhaps,  entitling  him  to  pardon.  Hang  him, 
therefore,  or  set  him  free." 

This  reasoning  being  considered  conclusive,  the  pris 
oner  suffered  as  a  common  spy. 

We  have  now  advanced  to  that  period  of  the  revolu 
tionary  war,  in  which  the  situation  of  Greene  is  about 
to  experience  an  entire  change.  No  longer  acting  in 
the  vicinity,  or  subject  to  the  immediate  orders  of  a  su 
perior,  we  are  to  behold  him,  in  future,  removed  to  a 
distance,  and  virtually  invested  with  the  supreme  com 
mand  of  a  large  section  of  the  United  States. 

Congress,  dissatisfied  with  the  loss  of  the  southern 
army,  resolved  that  the  conduct  of  General  Gates,  be 
submitted  to  the  examination  of  a  court  of  inquiry, 
and  the  commander-in-chief  directed  to  appoint  an  offi 
cer  to  succeed  him.  In  compliance  with  the  latter  part 
of  the  resolution,  General  Washington,  without  hesita 
tion,  offered  the  appointment  to  General  Greene.  In  a 
letter  to  Congress,  recommending  the  general  to  the 
support  of  that  body,  he  made  the  most  honourable 
mention  of  him  as  "  an  officer  in  whose  abilities,  forti 
tude,  and  integrity,  from  a  long  and  intimate  experience 
of  them,  he  had  the  most  entire  confidence."  Writing 
to  Mr.  Matthews,  a  member  from  Charleston,  he  says, 
"You  have  your  wish,  in  the  officer  appointed  to  the 
southern  command.  I  think  I  am  giving  you  a  general ; 
but  what  can  a  general  do  without  arms,  without  cloth 
ing,  without  stores,  without  provisions." 

General  Greene  arrived  at  Charlotte,  the  head  quar 
ters  of  General  Gates,  Dec.  2d,  1780,  and  in  entering 
on  the  duties  of  his  command,  he  found  himself  in  a 
situation  that  was  fearfully  embarrassing.  His  army, 
consisting  mostly  of  militia,  amounted  to  less  than  two 
thousand  men,  and  he  found  on  hand  but  three  days' 
provision,  and  a  very  defective  supply  of  ammunition. 
In  front  was  an  enemy,  proud  in  victory,  and  too  strong 
to  bo  encountered.  With  such  means,  and  under  such 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  107 

circumstances,  to  recover  two  states,  already  conquered, 
and  protect  a  third,  constituted  a  task  that  was  almost 
hopeless. 

It  was  not  merely  to  meet  an  enemy  in  the  field,  to 
command  skilfully,  and  fight  bravely,  either  in  proffered 
or  accepted  battle.  These  operations  depend  on  mere 
professional  qualifications,  that  can  be  readily  acquired 
by  moderate  capacities.  But  to  raise  and  provide  for 
an  army  in  a  dispirited  and  devastated  country,  creating 
resources  where  they  do  not  exist,  to  operate  with  an 
incompetent  force  on  an  extended  and  broken  line  of 
frontier;  to  hold  in  check,  in  many  points,  and  to  avoid 
coming  into  contact  in  any,  with  an  enemy  superior  in 
numbers  and  discipline ; — to  conduct  a  scheme  of  war 
fare  like  this,  and  such,  precisely,  was  that  which  tested 
the  abilities  of  Geneial  Greene,  requires  a  genius  of  the 
highest  order,  combined  with  indefatigable  industry  and 
skill. 

Preparatory  to  the  commencement  of  the  campaign, 
Greene's  first  care  was  to  prepare  fov  his  troops  subsis 
tence  and  ammunition,  and  in  effecting  this,  he  derived 
great  aid  from  his  personal  experience  in  the  business  of 
the  commissary  and  quarter-master's  departments. — 
This  qualification  for  such  a  diversity  of  duties,  present 
ed  him  to  his  troops  in  the  two-fold  relation  of  their 
supporter  and  commander.  Much  of  the  moral  strength 
of  an  army  consists  in  a  confidence  in  its  leader,  an 
attachment  to  his  person,  and  a  spirit  of  subordination, 
founded  on  principle.  To  such  an  extent  was  this  true, 
that  even  the  common  soldiery,  sensible  of  the  superin 
tendence  of  a  superior  intellect,  predicted  confidently  a 
change  of  fortune.  Their  defeat  at  Camden  was  soon 
forgotten  by  them,  in  their  anticipations  of  future  victo 
ry.  They  fancied  themselves  ready  once  more  to  take 
the  field,  and  felt  a  solicitude  to  regain  their  lost  reputa 
tion,  and  signalize  their  prowess  in  presence  of  their  new 
arid  beloved  commander. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  spirit  and  confidence  of  his 
troops,  Greene  found  himself  unable  to  meet  the  enemy 
in  the  field.  With  Washington  in  his  eye,  and  his  own 
genius  to  devise  his  measures,  he  resolved  on  cautious 


108  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

movements  and  protracted  war.  Yet.  to  sustain  the 
spirit  of  the  country,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
not  altogether  shun  his  enemy;  but  watching  and  con 
fronting  his  scouts  and  foraging  parties,  fight,  cripple, 
and  beat  him  in  detail,  and  in  all  his  movements,  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  maintain  a  communication  with 
Virginia,  from  which  he  was  to  receive  supplies  of  pro 
visions,  munitions,  and  men. 

General  Greene's  first  movement,  from  the  village  of 
Charlotte,  was  productive  of  the  happiest  effect.  In 
the  month  of  December  he  marched,  with  his  main  ar 
my,  to  the  Cheraw  Hills,  about  seventy  miles  to  the 
right  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  despatching,  at  the  same  time, 
General  Morgan,  with  four  hundred  continentals  under 
Colonel  Howard,  Colonel  Washington's  corps  of  drag 
oons,  and  a  few  militia,  amounting  in  all  to  six  hundred, 
to  take  a  position  on  the  British  left,  distant  from  them 
about  fifty  miles. 

This  judicious  disposition,  which  formed  a  rallying 
point  for  the  friends  of  independence,  both  in  the  east 
and  west,  and  facilitated  the  procurement  of  provisions 
for  the  troops,  excited  his  Lordship's  apprehensions  for 
the  safety  of  Ninety-Six  and  Augusta,  British  posts, 
which  he  considered  as  menaced  by  the  movements  of 
Morgan,  and  gave  rise  to  a  train  of  movements  which 
terminated  in  the  celebrated  battle  of  the  Cowpens. 

Cornwallis,  immediately  on  learning  the  movements 
of  Greene,  despatched  Colonel  Tar  1  ton  with  a  strong 
detachment,  amounting,  in  horse  and  foot,  to  near  a 
thousand,  for  the  protection  of  Ninety-Six,  with  orders 
to  bring  General  Morgan,  if  possible,  to  battle.  Greatly 
superior  in  numbers,  he  advanced  on  Morgan  with  a 
menacing  aspect,  and  compelled  him, at  first,  to  fall  back 
rapidly.  But  this  was  not  long  continued.  Glorying  in 
action,  and  relying  with  great  confidence  in  the  spirit 
and  firmness  of  his  regular  troops,  Morgan  halted  at  the 
Cowpens,  and  prepared  to  give  his  adversary  battle. 
The  opportunity  was  eagerly  seized  by  Tarlton.  An 
engagement  was  the  immediate  consequence,  and  a 
complete  victory  was  obtained  by  the  Americans,* 

*Vide  Biog.  of  General  Morgan. 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  109 

Upwards  of  five  hundred  of  the  British  laid  down  their 
arms  and  were  made  prisoners,  and  a  very  considerable 
number  were  killed.  Eight  hundred  stand  of  arms,  two 
field  pieces,  and  thirty-five  baggage  wagons  fell  to  the 
victors,  who  had  only  twelve  killed  and  sixty  wounded. 

The  victory  of  the  Cowpens,  although  achieved  under 
the  immediate  command  of  Morgan,  w?_s  the  first  stroke 
of  General  Greene's  policy  in  the  south,  and  augured 
favourably  of  his  future  career.  It  led  to  one  of  the 
most  arduous,  ably-conducted,  and  memorable  opera 
tions,  that  occurred  in  the  course  of  the  revolutionary 
war — the  retreat  of  Greene,  and  the  pursuit  or  Corn- 
wallis,  during  the  inclemencies  of  winter,  a  distance  of 
230  miles. 

Galled  in  his  pride,  and  crippled  in  his  schemes,  by 
the  overthrow  of  Tarlton,  Lord  Cornwallis  resolved,  by 
a  series  of  prompt  and  vigorous  measures,  to  avenge  the 
injury  and  retrieve  the  loss  which  the  royal  arms  had  sus 
tained  at  the  Cowpens.  His  meditated  operations,  for 
this  purpose,  were,  to  advance  rapidly  on  Morgan,  re 
take  his  prisoners,  and  destroy  his  force;  to  maintain  an 
intermediate  position,  and  prevent  his  union  with  Gen. 
Greene:  or,  in  case  of  the  junction  of  the  two  armies, 
to  cut  off  their  retreat  toward  Virginia,  and  force  them 
to  action. 

But  General  Greene,  no  less  vigilant  and  provident 
than  himself,  informed,  by  express,  of  the  defeat  of 
Tarlton,  instantly  perceived  the  object  his  Lordship,  and 
ordering  his  troops  to  proceed,  under  General  Kuger, 
to  Salisbury,  where  he  meditated  a  junction  with  Mor 
gan's  detachment,  he  himself,  escorted  by  a  few  dra 
goons,  set  out  for  the  head-quarters  of  that  officer,  and 
joined  him  shortly  after. 

Cornwallis,  having  committed  to  the  flames  his  heavy 
baggage,  and  reduced  his  army  to  the  condition  of  light 
troops,  dashed  towards  Morgan.  And  here  commenced 
the  retreat  of  General  Greene,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  displayed  such  resources,  and  gained,  in  the  end,  such 
lasting  renown.  Sensible  of  the  immense  prize  for 
which  he  was  contending,  he  tasked  his  genius  to  the 
uttermost.  On  the  issue  of  the  struggle  was  staked, 


1  10  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

not  merely  the  lives  of  a  few  brave  men;  not  alone  the 
existence  of  the  whole  army,  but  the  fate  of  the  south 
and  the  integrity  of  the  Union.  But  his  genius  was 
equal  to  the  crisis.  By  the  most  masterly  movements, 
Greene  effected  a  junction  of  the  two  divisions  of  his 
little  army. 

To  his  great  mortification,  Lord  Cornwallis  now  per 
ceived,  that  in  two  of  his  objects,  the  destruction  of 
Morgan's  detachment,  and  the  prevention  of  its  union 
with  the  main  division,  he  was  completely  frustrated  by 
the  activity  of  Greene.  But  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the 
Americans  into  Virginia,  after  their  union,  and  to  compel 
them  to  action,  was  still,  perhaps,  practicable,  and  to 
the  achievement  of  this  he  now  directed  his  undivided 
energies. 

The  genius  of  Greene,  however,  did  not  desert  him 
on  this  trying  occasion.  Self-collected,  and  adapting 
his  conduct  to  the  nature  of  the  crisis,  his  firmness  grew 
with  the  increase  of  danger;  and  the  measure  of  his 
greatness  was  the  extent  of  the  difficulties  he  was 
called  to  encounter.  Not  h  withstand  ing  the  vigilance 
and  activity  of  his  enemy,  he  brought  his  men  in  safety 
into  Virginia;  and  to  crown  the  whole,  no  loss  was  sus 
tained  by  him,  either  in  men,  munitions,  artillery,  or  any 
thing  that  enters  into  the  equipment  of  an  army. 

Frustrated  thus  in  all  his  purposes,  Lord  Cornwallis, 
although  the  pursuing  party,  must  be  acknowledged  to 
have  been  fairly  vanquished.  Victory  is  the  successful 
issue  of  a  struggle  for  superiority.  Military  leaders 
contend  for  different  objects;  to  vanquish  their  enemies, 
in  open  conflict;  to  attack  and  overthrow  them,  by 
stratagem  and  surprise;  to  exhaust  their  resources,  by 
delay  of  action;  or  to  elude  them,  in  retreat,  until 
strengthened  by  reinforcements,  they  may  be  able  to 
turn  and  meet  them  in  the  field.  Of  this  last  description, 
was  the  victory  of  Greene,  in  this  memorable  retreat. 

In  Virginia,  General  Greene  received  some  reinforce 
ments,  and  had  the  promise  of  more;  on  which  he 
returned  again  into  North  Carolina,  where,  on  their 
arrival,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  act  on  the  offensive.  He 
encamped  in  the  vicinity  of  Lord  Cornwallis's  army. 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  Ill 

By  a  variety  of  the  best  concerted  manoeuvres,  he  so 
judiciously  supported  the  arrangement  of  his  troops,  by 
the  secrecy  and  promptitude  of  his  motions,  that,  du 
ring  three  weeks,  while  the  enemy  remained  near  him, 
he  prevented  them  from  taking  any  advantage  of  their 
superiority;  and  even  cut  off  all  opportunity  of  their 
receiving  succours  from  the  royalists. 

About  the  beginning  of  March  he  effected  a  junction 
with  a  continental  regiment,  and  two  considerable  bo 
dies  of  Virginia  and  Carolina  militia.  He  then  deter 
mined  on  attacking  the  British  commander,  without  loss 
of  time,  "  being  persuaded,"  as  he  declared  in  his  sub 
sequent  despatches,  "that  if  he  was  successful,  it  would 
prove  ruinous  to  the  enemy,  and,  if  otherwise,  that  it 
would  be  but  a  partial  evil  to  him."  On  the  14th,  he 
arrived  at  Guilford  Court-House,  the  British  then  lying 
at  twelve  miles  distance. 

His  army  consisted  of  about  four  thousand  five  hun 
dred  men,  of  whom  near  two-thirds  were  North  Carolina 
and  Virginia  militia.  The  British  were  about  two 
thousand  four  hundred ;  all  regular  troops,  and  the 
greater  part  inured  to  toil  and  service  in  their  long  ex 
pedition  under  Lord  Cornwallis,  who,  on  the  morning  of 
the  15th,  being  apprised  of  General  Greene's  intentions, 
marched  to  meet  him.  The  latter  disposed  his  army  in 
three  lines:  the  militia  of  North  Carolina  were  in  front; 
the  second  line  was  composed  of  those  of  Virginia ;  and 
the  third,  which  was  the  flower  of  the  army,  was  form 
ed  of  continental  troops,  near  fifteen  hundred  in  number. 
They  were  flanked  on  both  sides  by  cavalry  and  riflemen, 
and  posted  on  a  rising  ground,  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
Guilford  Court-House. 

The  engagement  commenced  at  half  an  hour  after 
one  o'clock  by  a  brisk  cannonade ;  after  which  the  Brit 
ish  advanced  in  three  columns,  and  attacked  the  first  line, 
composed  of  North  Carolina  militia.  These,  who  prob 
ably  had  never  been  in  action  before,  were  panic-struck 
at  the  approach  of  the  enemy;  and  many  of  them  ran 
away  without  firing  a  gun,  or  being  fired  upon,  and  even 
before  the  British  had  come  nearer  than  one  hundred 
and  forty  yards  to  them.  Part  of  them, however, fired: 


112  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

but  thev  thenfollowed  the  example  of  their  comrades. 
Their  officers  made  every  possible  effort  to  rally  them; 
but  neither  the  advantages  of  position,  nor  any  other 
consideration,  could  induce  them  to  maintain  their 
ground.  This  shameful  conduct  had  a  great  effect  upon 
the  issue  of  the  battle.  The  next  line,  however,  be 
haved  much  better.  They  fought  with  great  bravery; 
and  were  thrown  into  disorder;  rallied,  returned  to  the 
charge,  arid  kept  up  a  heavy  fire  for  a  long  time;  but 
were  at  length  broken,  and  driven  on  the  third  line, 
when  the  engagement  became  general,  very  severe,  and 
very  bloody.  At  length,  superiority  of  discipline  carri 
ed  the  day  from  superiority  of  numbers.  The  conflict 
endured  an  hour  and  a  half:  and  was  terminated  by 
General  Greene's  ordering  a  retreat,  when  he  perceived 
that  the  enemy  were  on  the  point  of  encircling  his 
troops."* 

This  was  a  hard-fought  action,  and  the  exertions  of 
the  two  rival  generals,  both  in  preparing  for  this  action, 
and  during  the  course  of  it,  were  never  surpassed.  For 
getful  of  every  thing,  but  the  fortune  of  the  day,  they, 
on  several  occasions,  mingled  in  the  danger,  like  com 
mon  soldiers. 

The  loss  sustained  by  the  Americans,  in  this  battle, 
amounted,  in  killed  and  wounded,  to  only  about  400; 
while  in  its  effect  on  the  enemy  it  was  murderous;  nearly 
one  third  of  them,  including  many  officers  of  distinction, 
were  killed  and  wounded. 

The  result  of  this  conflict,  although  technically  a  de 
feat,  was  virtually  a  victory  on  the  part  of  Gen.  Greene. 
In  its  relation  to  his  adversary,  it  placed  him  on  higher 
ground  than  he  had  previously  occupied;  enabling  him, 
immediately  afterward,  instead  of  retreating,  to  become 
the  pursuing  party.  This  is  evidenced  by  his  conduct 
soon  after  the  action. 

Not  doubting  that  Lord  Carnwallis  would  follow  him, 
he  retreated  slowly,  and  in  good  order,  from  the  field  of 
battle,  until  attaining,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  miles,  an 
advantageous  position,  he  again  drew  up  his  forces, 

*Am.  Biographical  Dictionary, 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  113 

determined  to  renew  the  contest  on  the  arrival  of  his 
enemy.  But  his  Lordship  was  in  no  condition  to  pursue. 
Having,  by  past  experience,  not  to  be  forgotten,  learnt 
that  his  adversary  was  a  Ulysses  in  wisdom,  he  now 
perceived  that  he  was  an  Ajax  in  strength.  Alike  ex 
pert  in  every  mode  of  warfare,  and  not  to  be  vanquish 
ed,  either  by  stratagem  or  force,  he  found  him  too  formi 
dable  to  be  again  approached. 

Influenced  by  these  sentiments,  Lord  Cornwallis, 
instead  of  pursuing  his  foe,  or  even  maintaining  his 
ground,  commenced  his  retreat,  leaving  behind  him 
about  seventy  of  his  wounded,  whom  he  recommended, 
in  a  letter  written  by  himself,  to  the  humanity  and  at 
tention  of  the  American  chief. 

Had  General  Greene  been  in  a  situation  to  pursue  his 
Lordship,  as  soon  as  he  commenced  his  retreat,  the  des 
truction  of  that  officer  and  his  army  would  have  been 
inevitable.  Some  spot  on  the  plains  of  Carolina  would 
have  witnessed  the  surrender  that  was  reserved  for  Vir 
ginia;  and  the  hero  of  the  south  would  have  won  the 
laurels  which,  shortly  afterwards,  decorated  the  brow  of 
the  hero  of  the  nation.  But  Greene's  military  stores 
were  so  far  expended  that  he  could  not  pursue,  until  he 
received  a  supply;  and  the  delay,  thus  occasioned,  gave 
time  to  the  British  commander  to  effect  his  escape. 

Having  received  his  supplies,  Greene  immediately 
pursued  the  enemy;  but  the  advanced  position  of  Lord 
Cornwallis,  and  the  impracticable  condition  of  the 
roads,  frustrated  every  exertion  that  General  Greene 
could  make  to  compel  the  enemy  to  a  second  engage 
ment, — convinced  of  this,  he  halted  to  indulge  his  troops 
in  that  refreshment  and  repose  which  they  so  much 
needed. 

Were  we  to  indicate  the  period  in  the  life  of  General 
Greene  most  strongly  marked  by  the  operations,  and 
irradiated  by  the  genius  of  a  great  commander,  we 
would,  without  hesitation,  select  that  which  extends 
from  the  commencement  of  his  retreat  before  Corn 
wallis,  to  the  termination  of  his  pursuit  of  him  at  this 
time.  Perhaps  a  brighter  era  does  not  adorn  the  military 
Career  of  any  leader.  It  was  in  the  course  of  it  that  he 

P 


114  NATHANIEL   GREENE. 

turned  the  current  of  adverse  fortune  consequent  on 
the  defeat  of  Gates,  which  he  afterward  directed  with 
such  certain  aim  and  irresistible  force,  as  to  keep  the 
enemy  from  Jiis  numerous  strong  holds  in  the  southern 
department,  and  contributed  so  pre-eminently  to  the 
speedy  and  felicitous  issue  of  the  war, 

Having  abandoned  the  pursuit  of  the  British  army, 
the  general  again  found  himself  encircled  with  difficul 
ties.  Of  the  southern  department  of  the  union,  o\er 
which  Greene's  command  extended,  the  enemy  was  in 
force  in  three  large  and  important  sections.  Georgia 
and  South  Carolina  were  entirely  in  their  possession; 
Lord  Cornwallis  had  taken  post  in  the  maritime  district 
of  North  Carolina,  and  part  of  Virginia  was  occupied 
by  a  powerful  detachment  of  British  troops,  under  the 
command  of  Gen.  Phillips.  At  a  loss  to  determine  in 
which  of  these  points  he  should  act  in  person,  he  con 
sulted  his  officers,  .and  found  them  greatly  divided  in 
opinion.  He,  however,  resolved,  in  accordance  to  the 
views  of  Colonel  Lee,  that,  leaving  his  lordship,  whose 
object  evidently  was  the  invasion  of  Virginia,  to  be  met 
by  the  energies  of  that  state,  with  such  assistance  as 
might  arrive  from  the  north,  he  should  penetrate  South 
Carolina,  his  aflny  divided  into  two  columns,  attack  and 
beat  the  enemy  at  their  different  posts,  without  permit 
ting  them  to  concentrate  their  forces,  and  thus  recover 
that  rich  and  important  member  of  the  union. 

An  officer  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  late 
action,  not  satisfied  with  the  proposed  plan  of  opera 
tions,  asked  General  Greene  by  way  of  remonstrance, — 
"  What  will  you  do,  Sir,  in  case  Lord  Cornwallis  throws 
himself  in  your  rear,  and  cuts  off  your  communication 
with  Virginia?"-— "I  will  punish  his  temerity,"  replied 
the  general,  with  great  pleasantness, "  by  ordering  you  to 
charge  him  as  you  did  at  the  battle  of  Guilforcl.  But 
never  fear,  Sir;  his  lordship  has  too  much  good  sense 
ever  again  to  risk  his  safety  so  far  from  the  sea-board. 
He  has  just  escaped  ruin,  and  he  knows  it,  and  I  am 
greatly  mistaken  in  his  character  as  an  officer,  if  he  has 
not  the  capacity  to  profit  by  experience." 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  115 

On  the  seventh  of  April,  General  Greene  broke  up 
his  encampment,  and  with  the  main  column  of  his  army, 
moving  to  the  south,  took  position  on  Hodkirk's  Hill,  in 
front  of  Camden,  the  head  quarters  of  Lord  Rawdon, 
now  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  British  forces  in  the 
south. 

The  strength  of  the  British  position,  which  was  cov 
ered  on  the  south  and  east  side  by  a  river  and  creek ; 
and  to  the  westward  and  northward,  by  six  redoubts; 
rendered  it  impracticable  to  carry  it  by  storm,  with  the 
small  army  Greene  had,  consisting  of  about  seven  hun 
dred  continentals,  the  militia  having  gone  home.  He, 
therefore,  encamped  at  about  a  mile  from  the  town,  in 
order  to  prevent  supplies  from  being  brought  in,  and  to 
take  advantage  of  such  favourable  circumstances  as 
might  occur. 

Lord  Rawdon's  situation  was  extremely  delicate* 
Colonel  Watson,  whom  he  had  some  time  before  de 
tached,  for  the  protection  of  the  eastern  frontiers,  and 
to  whom  he  had,  on  the  intelligence  of  General  Greene's 
intentions,  sent  orders  to  return  to  Camden,  was  so  ef 
fectually  watched  by  General  Marion,  that  it  was  im 
possible  for  him  to  obey.  His  lordship's  supplies  were, 
moreover,  very  precarious;  and  should  General  Greene's 
reinforcements  arrive,  he  might  be  so  closely  invested,  as 
to  be  at  length  obliged  to  surrender.  In  this  dilemma, 
the  best  expedient  that  suggested  itself,  was  a  bold  at 
tack  ;  for  which  purpose,  he  armed  every  person  with 
him  capable  of  carrying  a  musket,  not  excepting  his 
musicians  and  drummers.  He  sallied  out  on  the  25th  of 
April,  and  attacked  General  Greene  in  his  camp.  The 
defence  was  obstinate;  and  for  some  part  of  the  engage 
ment  the  advantage  appeared  to  be  in  favour  of  the 
Americans.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Washington,  wtoo  com 
manded  the  cavalry,  had  at  one  time  no  less  than  two 
hundred  British  prisoners.  However,  by  the  miscon 
duct  of  one  of  the  American  regiments,  victory  was 
snatched  from  General  Greene,  who  was  compelled  to 
retreat.  He  lost  in  the  action  about  two  hundred  kill 
ed,  wounded,  and  prisoners.  Rawdon  lost  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty-eight. 


116  NATHANIEL    GREENfc. 

There  was  a  great  similarity  between  the  consequen 
ces  of  the  affair  at  Guilford,  and  those  of  this  action.  In 
the  former,  Lord  Cornwallis  was  successful;  but  was 
afterward  obliged  to  retreat  two  hundred  miles  from  the 
scene  of  action,  and  for  a  time  abandoned  the  grand  ob 
ject  of  penetrating  to  the  northward.  In  the  latter,  Lord 
Rawdon  had  the  honour  of  the  field ;  but  was  shortly 
after  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  abandoning  his  post,and 
leaving  behind  him  a  number  of  sick  and  wounded. 

The  evacuation  of  Camden,  with  the  vigilance  of 
General  Greene,  and  the  several  officers  he  employed, 
gave  a  new  complexion  to  affairs  in  South  Carolina, 
where  the  British  ascendency  declined  more  rapidly 
than  it  had  been  established.  The  numerous  forts,  gar 
risoned  by  the  enemy,  fell  one  after  the  other,  into  the 
hands  of  the  Americans.  Orangeburg,  Motte,  Watson, 
Georgetown,  Granby,  and  others,  Fort  Ninety-Six  ex- 
cepted,  were  surrendered  ;  and  a  very  considerable  num 
ber  of  prisoners  of  war,  with  military  stores  and  artille 
ry,  were  found  in  them. 

On  the  22d  May,  General  Greene  sat  down  before 
Ninety-Six,  with  the  main  part  of  his  little  army.  The 
siege  was  carried  on  for  a  considerable  time  with  great 
spirit;  and  the  place  was  defended  with  equal  bravery. 
At  length  the  works  were  so  far  reduced,  that  a  surren 
der  must  have  been  made  in  a  few  days,  when  a  rein 
forcement  of  three  regiments,  from  Europe,  arrived  at 
Charleston,  which  enabled  Lord  Rawdon  to  proceed  to 
relieve  this  important  post.  The  superiority  of  the  ene- 
my?s  force  reduced  General  Greene  to  the  alternative  of 
abandoning  the  siege  altogether,  or,  previous  to  their 
arrival,  of  attempting  the  fort  by  storm.  The  latter  was 
more  agreeable  to  his  enterprising  spirit;  and  an  attack 
was  made,  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  June.  He  was 
repulsed  with  the  Joss  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men. — 
He  raised  the  siege,  and  retreated  over  the  Saluda. 

Dr.  Ramsay,  speaking  of  the  state  of  affairs  about 
this  period,  says,  "truly  distressing  was  the  situation  of 
the  American  army:  whiui  in  the  grasp  of  victory,  to  be 
obliged  to  expose  themselves  to  a  hazardous  assault, 
and  afterward  to  abandon  a  siege.  When  they  were 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  117 

nearly  masters  of  the  whole  country,  to  be  compelled  to 
retreat  to  its  extremity;  and  after  subduing  the  great 
est  part  of  the  force  sent  against  them,  to  be  under  the 
necessity  of  encountering  still  greater  reinforcements, 
when  their  remote  situation  precluded  them  from  the 
hope  of  receiving  a  single  recruit.  In  this  gloomy  situ 
ation,  there  were  not  wanting  persons  who  advised  Gen 
eral  Greene  to  leave  the  state,  and  retire  with  his  re 
maining  forces  to  Virginia.  To  arguments  and  sugges 
tions  of  this  kind  he  nobly  replied,  4I  will  recover  the 
country,  or  die  in  the  attempt.'  This  distinguished  offi] 
cer,  whose  genius  was  most  vigorous  in  those  extremi 
ties,  when  feeble  minds  abandon  themselves  to  despair, 
adopted  the  only  resource  now  left  him,  of  avoiding  an 
engagement,  until  the  British  force  should  be  divided."* 

Greene,  having,  without  loss,  made  good  his  passage 
over  the  rivers  in  front,  Lord  Rawdon,  perceiving  the 
futility  of  any  further  attempt  to  overtake  him,  aban 
doned  the  pursuit,  and  retreating  to  Ninety-Six,  prepared 
for  its  evacuation.  Thus  did  the  policy  of  Greene, 
which  is  moral  strength,  compel  the  surrender  of  that 
fortress,  although  from  a  want  of  physical  strength,  he 
failed  to  carry  it  by  the  sword. 

No  sooner  had  Lord  Rawdon  commenced  his  retro 
grade  movement  towards  Ninety-Six  than  Gen.  Greene 
changed  his  front,  and  moved  in  the  same  direction.  On 
the  breaking  up  of  the  garrison  of  Ninety-Six,  and  the 
return  of  Lord  Rawdon  towards  Charleston,  which  im 
mediately  ensued,  the  British  army  moved  in  two  col 
umns,  at  a  considerable  distance  from  each  other.  It 
was  then  that  General  Greene  became,  in  reality,  the 
pursuing  party,  exceedingly  anxious  to  bring  the  enemy 
to  battle.  But  this  he  was  unable  to  accomplish  until 
September. 

September  the  9th,  General  Greene  having  assembled 
about  two  thousand  men,  proceeded  to  attack  the  Brit 
ish,  who,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Stewart,  were 
posted  at  Eutaw  Springs.  The  American  force  was 
drawn  up  in  two  lines:  the  first,  composed  of  Carolina 

*Am.  Biog.  Dictionary. 


118  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

militia,  was  commanded  by  Generals  Marion  and  Pick- 
ens,  and  Colonel  de  Malmedy.  The  second,  which 
consisted  of  continental  troops,  from  North  Carolina, 
Virginia,  and  Maryland,  was  commanded  by  General 
Sampler,  Lieutenant  Colonel  Campbell,  and  Colonel 
Williams:  Lieutenant  Colonel  Lee,  with  his  legion, 
covered  the  right  flank;  and  Lieut,  Colonel  Henderson, 
with  the  state  troops,  covered  the  left.  A  corps  de 
reserve  was  formed  of  the  cavalry,  under  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Washington,  and  the  Delaware  troops  under 
Captain  Kirkwood.  As  the  Americans  came  forward 
to  the  attack,  they  fell  in  with  some  advanced  parties  of 
the  enemy,  at  about  two  or  three  miles  ahead  of  the  main 
body.  These  being  closely  pursued,  were  driven  back, 
and  the  action  soon  became  general.  The  militia  were 
at  length  forced  to  give  way,  but  were  bravely  supported 
by  the  second  line.  In  the  hottest  part  of  the  engage 
ment,  General  Greene  ordered  the  Maryland  and  Vir 
ginia  continentals  to  charge  with  trailed  arms.  This 
decided  the  fate  of  the  day.  "Nothing,"  says  Dr.  Ram 
say,  "could  surpass  the  intrepidity  of  both  officers  and 
men  on  this  occasion.  They  rushed  on  in  good  order 
through  a  heavy  cannonade,  and  a  shower  of  musketry, 
with  such  unshaken  resolution,  that  they  bore  down  all 
before  them."  The  British  were  broken,  closely  pursu 
ed,  and  upwards  of  five  hundred  of  them  were  taken 
prisoners.  They,  however,  made  afresh  stand  in  a  fa 
vourable  position,  in  impenetrable  shrubs  and  a  piqueted 
garden.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Washington,  after  having 
made  every  effort  to  dislodge  them,  was  wounded  and 
taken  prisoner.  Four  six  pounders  were  brought  for 
ward  to  play  upon  them,  but  they  fell  into  their  hands; 
and  the  endeavours  to  drive  them  from  their  station,  be 
ing  found  impracticable,  the  Americans  retired,  leaving 
a  very  strong  piquet  on  the  field  of  battle.  Their  loss 
was  about  five  hundred;  that  of  the  British  upwards  of 
eleven  hundred. 

General  Greene  was  honoured  by  congress  with  a 
British  standard,  and  a  gold  medal,  emblematical  of 
the  engagement,  "  for  his  wise,  decisive,  and  magnani 
mous  conduct,  in  the  action  of  Eutaw  Springs,  in  which, 


NATHANIEL  GREENE.  1  19 

with  a  force  inferior  in  number  to  that  of  the  enemy,  he 
obtained  a  most  signal  victory." 

In  the  evening  of  the  succeeding  day,  Colonel  Stew 
art  abandoned  his  post,  and  retreated  towards  Charles 
ton  leaving  behind  upwards  of  seventy  of  his  wounded 
and  a  thousand  stand  of  arms.  He  was  pursued  a 
considerable  distance,  but  in  vain. 

In  Dr.  Caldwell's  memoirs  of  the  life  of  Gen.  Greene, 
we  have  the  following  interesting  story  as  connected 
with  the  severe  conflict  at  Eutaw  Springs. 

"Two  young  officers,  bearing  the  same  rank,  met  in 
personal  combat.  The  American,  perceiving  that  the 
Briton  had  a  decided  superiority,  in  the  use  of  the  sa 
bre,  and  being  himself  of  great  activity  and  personal 
strength,  almost  gigantic,  closed  with  his  adversary  and 
made  him  his  prisoner. 

44  Gentlemanly,  generous,  and  high  minded,  this  event, 
added  to  a  personal  resemblance  which  they  were  ob 
served  to  bear  to  each  other,  produced  between  these 
two  youthful  warriors,  an  intimacy,  which  increased  in  a 
short  time  to  a  mutual  attachment. 

"Not  long  after  the  action,  the  American  officer  re 
turning  home,  on  furlough,  to  settle  some  private  busi 
ness,  obtained  permission  for  his  friend  to  accompany 
him. 

"Travelling  without  attendants  or  guard,  they  were 
both  armed  and  well  mounted.  Part  of  their  route  lay 
through  a  settlement  highly  disaffected  to  the  American 
cause. 

44  When  in  the  midst  of  this,  having,  in  consequence  of 
a  shower  of  rain,  thrown  about  them  their  cloaks,  which 
concealed  their  uniforms,  they  were  suddenly  encoun 
tered  by  a  detachment  of  tories. 

44The  young  American,  determined  to  die  rather  than 
become  a  prisoner,  especially  to  men  whom  he  held  in 
abhorrence  for  disloyalty  to  their  country,  and  the  gen 
erous  Briton  resolved  not  to  survive  one  by  whom  he 
had  been  distinguished  and  treated  so  kindly,  they  both 
together,  with  great  spirit  and  selfpossession,  charged 
the  royalists,  having  first  made  signals  in  their  rear,  as 
if  directing  others  to  follow  them;  and  thus,  without  in- 


120  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

jury  on  either  side,  had  the  address  and  good  fortune  to 
put  the  party  to  flight. 

"Arriving  in  safety  at  their  place  of  destination,  what 
was  their  surprise  and  augmented  satisfaction,  on  find 
ing,  from  some  questions  proposed  by  the  American 
officer's  father,  that  they  were  first  cousins! 

"With  increasing  delight,  the  Briton  passed  several 
weeks  in  the  family  of  kinsman,  where  the  writer  of 
this  narrative  saw  him  daily,  and  often  listened  with  the 
rapture  of  a  child,  to  the  checkered  story  of  his  military 
adventures. 

"To  heighten  the  occurrence,  and  render  it  more  ro 
mantic,  the  American  officer  had  a  sister,  beautiful  and 
accomplished,  whose  heart  soon  felt  for  the  gallant 
stranger,  more  than  the  affection  due  to  a  cousin.  The 
attachment  was  mutual. 

"But  here  the  adventure  assumed  a  tragical  cast. 
The  youthful  foreigner,  being  exchanged,  was  summoned 
to  return  to  his  regiment.  The  message  was  fatal  to  his 
peace.  But  military  honour  demanded  the  sacrifice; 
and  the  lady, generous  and  high  minded  as  himself,  would 
not  be  instrumental  in  dimming  his  laurels.  The  part 
ing  scene  was  a  high-wrought  picture  of  tenderness  and 
sorroW.  On  taking  leave,  the  parties  mutually  bound 
themselves,  by  a  solemn  promise,  to  remain  single  a  cer 
tain  number  of  years,  in  the  hope  that  an  arrangement 
contemplated  might  again  bring  them  together.  A  few 
weeks  afterward,  the  lady  expired  under  an  attack  of 
small-pox.  The  fate  of  the  officer  we  never  learnt."* 

Judge  Johnson  in  his  life  of  General  Greene,  says — 
"  At  the  battle  of  the  Eutaw  Springs,  Greene  says,  'that 
hundreds  of  my  men  were  naked  as  they  were  born.' — 
Posterity  will  scarcely  believe  that  the  bare  loins  of  ma 
ny  brave  men  who  carried  death  into  the  enemy's  ranks, 
at  the  Eutaw,  were  galled  by  their  cartouch  boxes,  while 
a  folded  rag  or  a  tuft  of  moss  protected  their  shoulders 
from  sustaining  the  same  injury  from  the  musket.  Men 
of  other  times  will  inquire,  by  what  magic  was  the  army 
kept  together?  By  what  supernatural  power  was  it 
made  to  fight?" 

*Am.  Biographical  Dictionary. 


NATHANIEL   GREENE.  121 

General  Greene  in  his  letters  to  the  secretary  at  war, 
says — "We  have  three  hundred  men  without  arms,  and 
more  than  one  thousand  so  naked  that  they  can  be  put 
on  duty  only  in  cases  of  a  desperate  nature."  Again 
he  says — "Our  difficulties  are  so  numerous,  and  our 
wants  so  pressing,  that  1  have  not  a  moment's  relief  from 
the  most  painful  anxieties.  I  have  more  embarrass 
ments  than  it  is  proper  to  disclose  to  the  world.  Let  it 
suffice  to  say  that  this  part  of  the  United  States  has 
had  a  narrow  escape.  I  have  been  seven  months  in  the 
field  without  taking  off  my  clothes" 

The  battle  of  Eutaw  Springs  being  terminated, Gen. 
Greene  ordered  the  light  troops  under  Lee  and  Marion 
to  march  circuitously,  and  gain  a  position  in  the  British 
rear.  But  the  British  leader  was  so  prompt  in  his  meas 
ures,  and  so  precipitate  in  his  movements,  that  leaving 
his  sick  and  wounded  behind  him,  he  made  good  his 
retr*.-;u.  The  only  injury  he  received  in  his  flight,  was 
from  Lee  and  Marion,  who  cut  off  part  of  his  rear  guard, 
galled  him  in  his  flanks,  killed  several,  and  made  a 
number  of  prisoners. 

Such  was  the  issue  of  the  battle  of  Eutaw.  Like 
that  of  every  other  fought  by  General  Greene,  it  mani 
fested  in  him,  judgment  and  sagacity  of  the  highest  or 
der.  Although  he  was  repeatedly  forced  from  the  field, 
it  may  be  truly  said  of  that  officer,  that  he  never  lost  an 
action — the  consequences,  at  least,  being  always  in  his 
favour.  In  no  instance  did  he  fail  to  reduce  his  enemy 
to  a  condition,  relatively  much  worse  than  that  in  which 
he  met  him,  his  own  condition,  of  course,  being  relative 
ly  improved. 

The  battle  of  the  Eutaw  Springs,  was  the  last  essay 
in  arms,  in  which  it  was  the  fortune  of  General  Greene 
to  command,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  abandonment  of 
the  whole  of  South  Carolina  by  the  enemy,  except 
Charleston.  During  the  relaxation  that  followed,  a 
dangerous  plot  was  formed,  by  some  mutinous  persons 
of  the  army,  to  deliver  up  their  brave  general  to  the 
British.  The  plot  was  discovered  and  defeated;  the 
ringleader  was  apprehended,  tried,  and  shot,  and  twelve 
of  the  most  guilty  of  his  associates,  deserted  to  the 

Q 


122  NATHANIEL    GREENE. 

enemy.  To  the  honour  of  the  American  character,  no 
native  of  the  country  was  known  to  be  concerned  in  this 
conspiracy.  Foreigners  alone  were  the  projectors  and 
abettors. 

The  surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  whose  enterprising 
spirit  had  been,  by  the  British  ministry,  expected  to 
repair  the  losses,  and  wipe  away  the  disgrace  which  had 
been  incurred  through  the  inactivity  and  indolence  of 
other  Generals,  having  convinced  them  of  the  impracti 
cability  of  subjugating  America,  they  discontinued  offen 
sive  operation  in  every  quarter.  The  happy  period  at 
length  arrived,  when,  by  the  virtue  and  bravery  of  her 
sons,  aided  by  the  bounty  of  heaven,  America  compel 
led  her  invaders  to  acknowledged  her  independence. 
Then  her  armies  quitted  the  tented  field,  and  retired  to 
cultivate  the  arts  of  peace  and  happini  ss.  Gen.  Greene 
immediately  withdrew  from  the  south,  and  returned  to 
the  bosom  of  his  native  state. 

The  reception  he  there  experienced,  was  cordial  and 
joyous.  The  authorities  welcomed  him  home,  with 
congratulatory  addresses,  and  the  chief  men  of  the  place 
waited  upon  him  at  his  dwelling,  eager  to  testify  their 
gratitude  for  his  services,  their  admiration  of  his  talent 
and  virtues',  and  the  pride  with  which  they  recognised 
him  as  a  native  of  Rhode  Island. 

On  the  close  of  the  war,  the  three  southern  states 
that  had  been  the  most  essentially  benefited  by  his 
wisdom  and  valour,  manifested  at  once  their  sense  of 
justice,  and  their  gratitude  to  General  Greene,  by  liberal 
donations.  South  Carolina  presented  him  with  an  es 
tate,  valued  at  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling;  Georgia, 
with  an  estate,  a  few  miles  from  the  city  of  Savannah, 
worth  five,  thousand  pounds;  and  North  Carolina,  with 
twenty-five  thousand  acres  of  land  in  the  state  of  Ten 
nessee. 

Having  spent  about  two  years  in  his  native  state,  in 
the  adjustment  of  his  private  affairs,  he  sailed  for  Geor 
gia,  in  October  1785,  and  settled  with  his  family,  on  his 
estate  near  Savannah.  Engaged  here  in  agricultural 
pursuits,  he  employed  himself  closely  in  arrangements 
for  planting,  exhibiting  the  fairest  promise  to  become  as 


NATHANIEL    GREENE.  123 

eminent  in  the  practice  of  the  peaceful  virtues,  as  he  had 
already  shown  himself  in  the  occupations  of  war. 

But  it  was  the  will  of  Heaven,  that  in  this  new  sphere 
of  action,  his  course  should  he  limited.  The  short  pe 
riod  of  seven  months,  was  destined  to  witness  its  com 
mencement  and  its  close. 

Walking  over  his  grounds,  as  was  his  custom,  without 
his  hat,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  15th  of  June,  1786,  the 
day  being  intensely  hot,  he  was  suddenly  attacked  with 
such  a  vertigo  and  prostration  of  strenght  as  to  be  una 
ble  to  return  to  his  house  without  assistance.  The  af 
fection  was  what  was  denominated  a  "  stroke  of  the 
sun."  It  was  succeeded  by  fever,  accompanied  with 
stupor,  delirium,  and  a  disordered  stomach.  All  efforts 
to  subdue  it  proved  fruitless,  it  terminated  fatally  on  the 
19th  of  the  month. 

Intelligence  of  the  event  being  conveyed  to  Savannah, 
but  one  feeling  pervaded  the  place.  Sorrow  was  uni 
versal;  and  the  whole  town  instinctively  assumed  the 
aspect  of  mourning.  All  business  was  suspended,  the 
dwelling-houses,  stores,  and  shops  were  closed,  and  the 
shipping  in  the  harbour  halfmasted  their  colours. 

On  the  following  day,  the  body  of  the  deceased  being 
conveyed  to  the  town,  at  the  request  of  the  inhabitants, 
was  interred  in  a  private  cemetery  with  milatary  hon 
ours,  the  magistrates  of  the  place,  and  other  public 
officers,  the  society  of  the  Cincinnati,  and  the  citizens 
generally,  joined  in  the  procession.* 

On  the  12th  of  August,  of  the  year  in  which  the  gen 
eral  died,  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  unanimous 
ly  resolved — '4  That  a  monument  be  erected  to  the 
memory  of  the  Honourable  Nathaniel  Greene,  at  the 
seat  of  the  Federal  Government,  with  the  following  in 
scription. 

SACRED 

to  the  memory  of  the 
HON.  NATHANIEL  GREENE, 

who  departed  this  life 
the  19th  of  June,  MDCCLXXXVI, 

^General  Greene  left  behind  him  a  wife  and  five  children. 


124  NATHANIEL    GREENL, 

late  Major  General  in  the 

service  of  the  U.  S.  and 

Commander  of  the  Army  in 

the  southern  department. 

The  United  States,  in  Congress 

assembled,  in  honour  of  his 

PATRIOTISM,  VALOUR,  &   ABILITY, 

have  erected  this 

MONUMENT. 

To  the  disgrace  of  the  nation,  no  monument  has 
been  erected ;  nor.  for  the  want  of  a  headstone,  can  any 
one  at  present  designate  the  spot,  where  the  relics  of  the 
Hero  of  the  South  lie  interred. 

In  estimating  the  military  character  of  Gen.  Greene, 
facts  authorized  the  inference,  that  he  possessed  a  gen 
ius  adapted  by  nature  to  military  command.  After 
resorting  to  arms,  his  attainment  to  rank  was  much  more 
rapid,  than  that  of  any  other  officer  our  country  has  pro 
duced;  perhaps  the  most  rapid  that  history  records. 
These  offices,  so  high  in  responsibility  and  honour,  were 
conferred  on  him,  not  as  matters  of  personal  favour,  or 
family  influence,  nor  yet  through  the  instrumentality  of 
political  intrigue.  They  were  rewards  of  pre-eminent 
merit,  and  tokens  of  recognised  fitness  for  the  highest 
functions  of  military  service. 

It  is  said,  that,  on  his  very  first  appearance  in  the 
camp  at  Cambridge,  from  the  ardour  of  his  zeal,  unre- 
mitted  activity,  arid  strict  attention  to  every  duty,  he 
was  pronounced  by  soldiers  of  distinction,*  a  man  of 
real  military  genius. 

"  His  knowledge"  (said  General  Knox  to  a  distin 
guished  citizen  of  South  Carolina,)  "is  intuitive.  He 
came  to  us  the  rawest,  and  most  untutored  being  I  ever 
met  with;  but  in  less  than  twelve  months,  he  was  equal 
in  military  knowledge  to  any  general  officer  in  the  army, 
and  very  superior  to  most  of  them."  Even  the  enemy 
he  conquered,  did  homage  to  his  pre-eminent  talents  for 
war.  Tarlton,  who  had  strong  ground  to  know  him,  is 
reported  to  have  pronounced  him,  on  a  public  occasion, 

*Col.  Pickering  and  others.. 


NATHAN    HALE.  125 

the  most  able  and  accomplished  commander  that  Amer 
ica  had  produced. 

When  acting  under  the  order  of  others,  he  never  failed 
to  discharge,  to  their  satisfaction,  the  duties  intrusted  to 
him,  however  arduous.  But  it  is  the  southern  depart 
ment  of  the  union,  that  constitutes  the  theatre  of  his 
achievements  and  fame.  It  was  there,  where  his  views 
were  unshackled,  and  his  genius  free,  that  by  performing 
the  part  of  a  great  captain,  he  erected  for  himself  a  mon 
ument  of  reputation,  durable  as  history,  lofty  as  victory 
and  conquest  could  render  it,  and  brightened  by  all  that 
glory  could  bestow. 

In  compliment  to  his  brilliant  successes,  the  chivalric 
De  la  Ltizerne,the  minister  of  France,  who  as  a  Knight 
of  Malta,  must  be  considered  as  a  competent  judge  of 
military  merit,  thus  speaks  of  him: — "Other  generals 
subdue  their  enemies  by  the  means  with  which  their 
country,  or  their  sovereign  furnished  them,  but  Greene 
appears  to  subdue  his  enemy  by  his  own  means.  He 
commenced  his  campaign,  without  either  an  army,  pro 
visions,  or  military  stores.  He  has  asked  for  nothing 
since;  and  yet,  scarcely  a  post  arrives  from  the  south, 
that  does  not  bring  intelligence  of  some  new  advantage 
gained  over  his  foe.  He  conquers  by  magic.  History 
furnishes  no  parallel  to  this." 


NATHAN  HALE, 

Captain  in   the  American  Army. 

AFTER  the  unfortunate  engagement  of  Long  Island, 
General  Washington  called  a  council  of  war,  who  de 
termined  on  an  immediate  retreat  to  New  York.  The 
intention  was  prudently  concealed  from  the  army,  who 
knew  not  whither  they  were  going,  but  imagined  it  was 
to  attack  the  enemy.  The  field  artillery,  tents,  baggage, 
and  about  9,000  men,  were  conveyed  to  the  city  of  New 
York,  over  the  East  River,  more  than  a  mile  wide,  in 
less  than  thirteen  hours,  and  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  British,  though  not  six  hundred  yards  distance. — 
Providence  in  a  remarkable  manner  favoured  the  re 
treating  army.  The  wind,  which  seemed  to  prevent  the 


126  NATHAN    HALE. 

troops  getting  over  at  the  appointed  hour,  afterward 
shifted  to  their  wishes. 

Perhaps  the  fate  of  America  was  never  suspended  by 
a  more  brittle  thread  than  previuosly  to  this  memorable 
retreat.  A  spectacle  is  here  presented  of  an  army, 
destined  for  the  defence  of  a  great  continent, driven  to 
the  narrow  borders  of  an  island,  with  a  victorious  army 
double  its  number  in  front,  with  navigable  waters  in  its 
rear;  constantly  liable  to  have  its  communication  cut  off 
by  the  enemy's  navy,  and  every  moment  exposed  to  an 
attack.  The  presence  of  mind  which  animated  the 
Commander-in-chief  in  this  critical  situation,  the  pru 
dence  with  which  all  the  necessery  measures  were  ex 
ecuted,  redounded  as  much  or  more  to  his  honour  than 
the  most  brilliant  victories.  An  army,  to  which  Amer 
ica  looked  for  safety,  preserved,  a  general,  who  was 
considered  as  an  host  himself,  saved  for  the  future  ne 
cessities  of  his  country.  Had  not,  however,  the  circnim 
stances  of  the  night,  of  the  wind  and  weather,  been  fa 
vourable,  the,  plan,  however  well  concerted,  must  have 
been  defeated.  To  a  good  Providence,  therefore,  are 
the  people  of  America  indebted  for  the  complete  suc 
cess  of  an  enterprise  so  important  in  its  consequences. 

This  retreat  left  the  British  in  complete  possession  of 
Long  Island.  What  would  be  their  future  operations 
remained  uncertain.  To  obtain  information  of  their 
situation,  their  strength,  and  future  movements,  was  of 
high  importance.  For  this  purpose  General  Washing 
ton  applied  to  Colonel  Knowlton,  who  commanded  a 
regiment  of  light  infantry,  which  formed  the  rear  of  the 
American  army,  and  desired  him  to  adopt  some  mode  of 
gaining  the  necessary  information.  Colonel  Knowlton 
communicated  this  request  to  CAPTAIN  NATHAN  HALE, of 
Connecticut,  who  was  a  captain  in  his  regiment. 

This  young  officer,  animated  by  a  sense  of  duty,  and 
considering  that  an  opportunity  presented  itself  by  which 
he  might  be  useful  to  his  country,  at  once  offered  him 
self  a  volunteer  for  this  hazardous  service.  .  He  passed 
in  disguise  to  Long  Island,  and  examined  every  part  of 
the  British  army,  and  obtained  the  best  posssible  infor 
mation  respecting  their  situation  and  future  operations, 


NATHAN    HALE.  127 

In  his  attempt  to  return  he  was  apprehended,  carried 
before  Sir  William  Howe,  and  the  proof  of  his  object 
was  so  clear,  that  he  frankly  acknowledged  who  he  was, 
and  what  were  his  views.  Sir  William  Howe  at  once 
gave  an  order  to  have  him  executed  the  next  morning. 

This  order  was  accordingly  executed  in  a  most  un 
feeling  manner,  and  by  as  great  a  savage  as  ever  disgra 
ced  humanity.  A  clergyman,  whose  attendance  he  de 
sired,  was  refused  him;  a  Bible  for  a  few  moments' 
devotion,  was  not  procured,  although  he  wished  it. 
Letters,  which  on  the  morning  of  his  execution,  he 
wrote  to  his  mother  and  olher  friends,  were  destroyed; 
and  this  very  extraordinary  reason  given  by  the  provost 
martial, "  THAT  THE  REBELS  SHOULD  NOT  KNOW  THEY  HAD  A 

MAN  IN  THEIR  ARMY  WHO  COULD  DIE  WITH  SO  MUCH  FIRMNESS." 

Unknown  to  all  around  him,  without  a  single  friend  to 
offer  him  the  least  consolation,  thus  fell  as  amiable  and 
as  worthy  a  young  man  as  America  could  boast,  with 
this,  as  his  dying  observation:  that  "  HE  ONLY  LAMENTED 

THAT  HE  HAD  BUT  ONE  LIFE  TO  LOSE  FOR  HIS  COUNTRY." 

Although  the  manner  of  this  execution  will  ever  be 
abhorred  by  every  friend  to  humanity  and  religion,  yet 
there  cannot  be  a  question  but  that  the  sentence  was 
conformable  to  the  rules  of  war,  and  the  practice  of 
nations  in  similar  cases. 

It  is,  however,  but  justice  to  the  character  of  Captain 
Hale  to  observe,  that  his  motives  for  engaging  in  this 
service  were  entirely  different  from  those  which  gener 
ally  influence  others  in  similar  circumstances.  Neither 
expectation  of  promotion,  nor  pecuniary  reward,  indu 
ced  him  to  this  attempt.  A  sense  of  duty,  a  hope  that 
he  might  in  this  way  be  useful  to  his  country,  and  an 
opinion  which  he  had  adopted,  that  every  kind  of  ser 
vice  necessary  to  the  general  good  became  honourable 
by  being  necessary,  were  the  great  motives,  which  in 
duced  him  to  engage  in  an  enterprise  by  which  his  con 
nexions  lost  a  most  amiable  friend,  and  his  country  one 
of  its  most  promising  supporters. 

The  fate  of  this  most  unfortunate  young  man,  excites 
the  most  interesting  reflections.  To  see  such  a  character, 
m  the  flower  of  youth,  cheerfully  treading  in  the  most 


128  ALEXANDER    HAMILTON. 

hazardous  paths,  influenced  by  the  purest  intentions, 
and  only  emulous  lo  do  good  to  his  country,  without  the 
imputation  of  a  crime,  fall  a  victim  to  policy,  must  have 
been  wounding  to  the  feelings  even  of  his  enemies. 

Should  a  comparison  be  drawn  between  Major  Andre 
and  Captain  Hale,  injustice  would  be  done  to  the  latter, 
should  he  not  be  placed  on  an  equal  ground  with  the 
former.  While  almost  every  historian  of  the  American 
revolution  has  celebrated  the  virtues  and  lamented  the 
fate  of  Andre,  Hale  has  remained  unnoticed,  and  it  is 
scarcely  known  such  a  character  existed. 

To  the  memory  of  Andre  his  country  has  erected  the 
most  magnificent  monuments,  and  bestowed  on  his  fam 
ily  the  highest  honours  and  most  liberal  rewards.  To 
the  memory  of  Hale,  not  a  stone  has  been  erected, 
an  inscription  to  preserve  his  ashes  from  insult! 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON, 

Inspector-General  in  the  American  Army. 

COLONEL  HAMILTON  was  a  native  of  the  Island  of  St. 
Croix,  and  was  born  in  the  year  1757.  His  father  was 
the  younger  son  of  an  English  family,  and  his  mother 
was  an  American  lady  of  respectable  connexions.  At 
the  age  of  sixteen  he  accompanied  his  mother  to  New 
York,  and  entered  a  student  of  Columbia  College,  in 
which  he  continued  about  three  years.  While  a  mem 
ber  of  this  institution,  the  first  buddings  of  his  intellect 
gave  presages  of  his  future  eminence. 

The  contest  with  Great  Britain  called  forth  the  first 
talents  on  each  side,  and  his  juvenile  pen  asserted  the 
violated  rights  of  the  American  colonies  against  the 
most  respectable  writers.  His  papers  exhibited  such 
evidence  of  intellect  and  wisdom,  that  they  were  ascri 
bed  to  Mr.  Jay;  and  when  the  truth  was  discovered, 
America  saw,  with  astonishment,  a  lad  of  seventeen,  in 
the  list  of  her  able  advocates. 

The  first  sound  of  war  awakened  his  martial  spirit, 
and,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  he  entered  the  American 
army  as  captain,  in  the  corps  of  artillery.  Soon  after 
war  was  transferred  to  the  Hudson,  in  1777,  his 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  129 

superior  endowments  recommended  him  to  the  attention 
of  the  commander-in-chief,  into  whose  family,  before 
completing  his  twenty-first  year,  he  was  invited  to  enter, 
as  an  aid,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel.  Equally 
brave  and  intelligent,  he  continued  in  this  situation  to 
display  a  degree  of  firmness  and  capacity  which  com 
manded  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  the  principal  offi 
cers  in  the  army. 

His  sound  understanding,  comprehensive  views,  ap 
plication  and  promptitude,  soon  gained  him  the  entire 
confidence  of  General  Washington.  In  such  a  school, 
it  was  impossible  but  that  his  genius  should  be  nour 
ished.  By  intercourse  with  his  general,  by  surveying 
his  plans,  observing  his  consummate  prudence,  and  by  a 
minute  inspection  of  the  springs  of  national  operations, 
he  became  fitted  for  command. 

Throughout  ihe  campaign,  which  tenninated  in  the 
capture  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  Col.  Hamilton  commanded 
a  battalion  of  light  infantry.  At  the  siege  of  York,  in 
1781,  when  the  second  parallel  was  opened,  two  re 
doubts,  which  flanked  it,  and  were  advanced  three 
hundred  yards  in  front  of  the  British  works,  very  much 
annoyed  the  men  in  the  trenches:  it  was  resolved  to 
possess  them;  and  to  prevent  jealousies,  the  attack  of 
the  one  was  committed  to  the  French,  and  of  the  other 
to  the  Americans.  The  detachment  of  the  Americans 
was  commanded  by  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette ;  and 
Colonel  Hamilton,  at  his  own  earnest  request,  led  the 
advanced  corps,  consisting  of  two  battalions.  Towards 
the  close  of  the  day,  on  the  fourteenth  of  October,  the 
troops  rushed  to  the  charge  without  firing  a  single  gun; 
and  so  great  was  their  ardour  that  they  did  not  give  the 
sappers  time  to  remove  the  abattis  and  palisades. — • 
Passing  over  them,  they  assailed  the  works  with  irre 
sistible  impetuosity  on  all  sides  at  once,  and  entered 
them  with  such  rapidity  that  their  loss  was  inconsidera 
ble.  The  irritation  produced  by  the  recent  carnage  at 
Fort  Griswold,  had  not  so  far  subdued  the  humanity  of 
the  American  character  as  to  induce  retaliation.  Not 
a  man  was  killed  except  in  action.  "Incapable,"  said 
Colonel  Hamilton,  in  his  report.  "  of  imitating  examples 

R 


130  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

of  barbarity,  and  forgetting  recent  provocation,  the  sol 
diery  spared  every  man,  that  ceased  to  resist." 

Soon  after  the  capture  of  Cornvvallis,  Hamilton 
sheathed  his  sword,  and  being  encumbered  with  a  fam 
ily,  and  destitute  of  funds,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five, 
applied  to  the  study  of  the  law.  In  this  profession  he 
soon  rose  to  distinction.  But  the  critical  circumstances 
of  the  existing  government,  induced  him  to  accept  a  seat 
in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States.  In  ail  the  im 
portant  acts  of  the  day,  he  performed  a  conspicuous 
part,  and  was  greatly  distinguished  among  those  distin 
guished  characters  whom  the  crisis  had  attracted  to 
the  councils  of  the  country.  Being  a  member  of  Con 
gress,  while  the  question  of  the  commutation  of  the  half 
pay  of  the  army  for  a  sum  in  gross,  was  in  debate,  deli 
cacy,  and  a  desire  to  be  useful  to  the  army,  by  removing 
the  idea  of  his  having  an  interest  in  the  question,  indu 
ced  him  to  write  to  the  secretary  of  war,  and  relinquish 
his  claim  to  half  pay,  which,  or  the  equivalent,  he  never 
received. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  an  interesting  and  important 
period  in  the  life  of  Hamilton.  After  witnessing  the  de 
bility  of  the  old  confederation,  and  its  inefficiency  to 
accomplish  the  objects  proposed  by  its  articles,  viz. 
"common  defence,  security  of  liberty,  and  general  wel 
fare,"  a  convention  of  the  states  was  agreed  upon,  for 
the  purpose  of  forming  an  efficient  federal  government. 
In  this  convention  was  collected  the  sound  wisdom  of  the 
country — the  patriots  and  sages,  who,  by  their  valour 
and  their  prudence,  had  carried  her  triumphantly 
through  the  stormy  period  of  the  revolution,  and  had 
given  her  a  name  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  To 
this  convention  Hamilton  was  appointed  a  delegate  from 
the  state  of  New  York.  It  convened  at  the  state  house 
in  Philadelphia,  May,  2,1},  1787.  A  unanimous  vote 
placed  General  Washington  in  the  chair. 

"It  was  soon  found,'' says  Mr.  Martin,  one  of  the  del 
egates  from  Maryland,"  there  were  among  us  three  par 
ties,  of  very  different  sentiments  and  views.  One  party, 
whose  object  and  wish  it  was  to  abolish  and  annihilate 
all  state  governments,  and  to  bring  forward  one  general 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  131 

government  over  this  extensive  continent,  of  a  monar- 
chial  nature,  under  certain  restrictions  and  limitations: — 
Those  who  openly  avowed  this  sentiment  were,  it  is 
true,  but  few,  yet  it  is  equally  true,  sir,  that  there  was  a 
considerable  number  who  did  not  openly  avow  it,  who 
were,  by  myself,  and  many  others  of  the  convention, 
considered  as  being  in  reality  favourers  of  that  senti 
ment,  and  acting  upon  those  principles,  covertly  endeav 
ouring  to  carry  into  effect  what  they  well  knew  openly 
and  avowedly  could  not  be  accomplished. 

44  The  second  party  was  not  for  the  abolition  of  the 
state  governments,  nor  for  the  introduction  of  a  monar 
chical  government  under  any  form:  but  they  wished  to 
establish  such  a  system  as  could  give  their  own  states 
undue  power  and  influence  in  the  government  over  the 
other  states. 

4iA  third  party  was  what  I  considered  truly  federal 
and  republican;  this  party  was  nearly  equal  in  number 
with  the  other  two,  and  were  composed  of  the  delega 
tions  from  Connecticut,  New  York,  New-Jeisey,  Dela 
ware,  and  in  part  from  Maryland; also  of  some  individ 
uals  from  other  representations." 

During  the  heat  of  party  animosity,  much  was  said 
and  written  of  the  monarchical  views  of  Hamilton,  and 
of  his  attempts,  in  the  convention  which  formed  our 
constitution,  to  carry  those  views  into  effect.  How  far 
the  sentiments  imputed  to  him  are  correct,  the  following 
paper,  read  by  him,  as  containing  his  ideas  of  a  suita 
ble  plan  of  government  for  the  United  States  will  show: 

"1.  The  supreme  legislative  power  of  the  United  States 
of  America  to  be  vested  in  two  distinct  bodies  of  men, 
the  one  to  be  called  the  assembly,  the  other  the  senate, 
who,  together,  shall  form  the  legislature  of  the  United 
States,  with  power  to  pass  all  laws  whatsoever,  subject 
to  the  negative  hereafter  mentioned. 

"2.  The  assembly  to  consist  of  persons  elected  by  the 
people,  to  serve  for  three  years. 

"  3.  The  senate  to  consist  of  persons  elected  to  serve 
during  good  behaviour;  their  election  to  be  made  by 
electors  chosen  for  that  purpose  by  the  people.  In  or 
der  to  this,  the  states  to  be  divided  into  election  districts. 


132  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

On  the  death,  removal,  or  resignation  of  any  senator, 
his  place  to  be  filled  out  of  the  district  from  which  he 
came. 

"4.  The  supreme  executive  authority  of  the  United 
States  to  be  vested  in  a  governor,  to  be  elected  to  serve 
during  good  behaviour.  His  election  to  be  made  by 
electors,  chosen  by  electors,  chosen  by  the  people,  in 
the  election  districts  aforesaid.  His  authorities  and 
functions  to  be  as  follows: — 

"  To  have  a  negative  on  all  laws  about  to  be  passed, 
and  the  execution  of  all  laws  passed;  to  have  the  entire 
direction  of  war,  when  authorized,  or  begun;  to  have, 
with  the  advice  and  approbation  of  the  senate,  the 
power  of  making  all  treaties;  to  have  the  sole  appoint 
ment  of  the  heads  of  chief  officers  of  the  departments 
of  finance,  war,  and  foreign  affairs;  to  have  the  nomina 
tion  of  all  other  officers,  (ambassadors  to  foreign  nations 
included)  subject  to  the  approbation  or  rejection  of  the 
senate ;  to  have  the  power  of  pardoning  all  offences,  ex 
cept  treason,  which  he  shall  not  pardon,  without  the 
approbation  of  the  senate. 

"  /).  On  the  death,  resignation,  or  removal  of  the  gov 
ernor,  his  authorities  to  be  exercised  by  the  president  of 
the  senate  until  a  successor  be  appointed. 

"  6.  The  senate  to  have  the  sole  power  of  declaring 
war;  the  power  of  advising  and  approving  all  treaties; 
the  power  of  approving  or  rejecting  all  appointments  of 
officers,  except  the  heads  or  chiefs  of  the  departments 
of  finance,  war,  and  foreign  affairs. 

4i7.  The  supreme  judicial  authority  of  the  United 
Slates  to  be  vested  in  judges,  to  hold  their  offices 
during  good  behaviour,  with  adequate  and  permanent 
salaries.  This  court  to  have  original  jurisdiction  in  all 
cases  of  capture;  and  an  appellative  jurisdiction  in  all 
causes,  in  which  the  revenues  of  the  general  govern 
ment,  or  the  citizens  of  foreign  nations,  are  concerned. 

"8.  The  legislature  of  the  United  States  to  have  pow 
er  to  institute  courts  in  each  state,  for  the  determination 
of  all  matters  of  general  concern. 

"9.  The  governors,  senators,  and  all  officers  of  the 
United  States,  to  be  liable  to  impeachment,  for  mal  and 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  133 

corrupt  conduct;  and,  upon  conviction,  to  be  removed 
from  office,  and  disqualified  for  holding  any  place  of 
trust,  or  profit.  All  impeachments  to  be  tried  by  a  court 
to  consist  of  the  chief,  or  senior  judge  of  the  superior 
court  of  law  in  each  state;  provided,  that  such  judge 
hold  his  place  during  good  behaviour,  and  have  a  per 
manent  salary. 

"10.  All  laws  of  the  particular  states,  contrary  to  the 
constitution  or  laws  of  the  United  States,  to  be  utterly 
void.  And  the  better  to  prevent  such  laws  being  pass 
ed,  the  governor  or  president  of  each  state  shall  be  ap 
pointed  by  the  general  government,  and  shall  have  a 
negative  upon  the  laws  about  to  be  passed  in  the  state 
of  which  he  is  governor,  or  president. 

"11.  No  state  to  have  any  forces,  land  or  naval;  and 
the  militia  of  all  the  states  to  be  under  the  sole  and  ex 
clusive  direction  of  the  United  States;  the  officers  of 
which  to  be  appointed  and  commissioned  by  them." 

Such  being  the  views  of  Hamilton,  the  constitution, 
framed  by  the  convention,  did  not  completely  meet  his 
wishes.  He  was  afraid  it  did  not  contain  sufficient 
means  of  strength  for  its  own  preservation,  and  that  in 
consequence  we  should  share  the  fate  of  many  other 
republics,  and  pass  through  anarchy  to  despotism, 
He  was  in  favour  of  a  more  permanent  executive  and 
senate.  He  wished  for  a  strong  government,  which 
would  not  be  shaken  by  the  conflict  of  different  inter 
ests  through  an  extensive  territory,  and  which  should 
be  adequate  to  all  the  forms  of  national  exigency.  He 
was  apprehensive,  that  the  increased  wealth  and  popu 
lation  of  the  states  would  lead  to  encroachments  on  the 
union.  These  were  his  views  and  feelings,  and  he  free 
ly  and  honestly  expressed  them. 

A  respectable  member  of  the  convention  once  remark 
ed,  that  if  the  constitution  did  not  succeed,  on  trial,  Mr. 
Hamilton  was  less  responsible  for  that  result  than  any 
other  member,  for  he  fully  and  frankly  pointed  out  to 
the  convention  what  he  apprehended  were  the  infirmi 
ties  to  which  it  was  liable.  And  that  if  it  answered 
the  fond  expectations  of  the  public,  the  community 
would  be  more  indebted  to  Mr.  Hamilton  than  to  anv 


134  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

other  member ;  for  after  its  essential  outlines  were  agreed 
to,  he  laboured  most  indefatigably  to  heal  those  infirmi 
ties,  and  to  guard  against  the  evils  to  which  they  might 
expose  it. 

The  patriotism  of  Hamilton  was  not  of  that  kind 
which  yields  every  thing,  because  it  cannot  accomplish 
all  that  it  desires.  Believing  the  constitution  incompar 
ably  superior  to  the  old  confederation,  he  exerted  all  his 
talents  in  its  support. 

After  the  publication  of  the  constitution,  Hamilton, 
in  concert  with  Mr.  Jay,  and  Mr.  Madison,  commenced 
the  "Federalist,"  a  series  of  essays,  addressed  to  the 
people  of  the  state  of  New  York,  in  favour  of  the  adop 
tion  of  the  constitution.  These  papers  first  made  their 
appearance  in  the  daily  prints,  early  in  November,  1787, 
and  the  work  was  not  concluded  until  a  short  time  pre 
vious  to  the  meeting  of  the  state  convention,  in  June, 
1788.  It  was  well  understood  that  Mr.  Hamilton  was 
the  principal  author,  and  wrote  at  least  three-fourths  of 
the  numbers.  This  work  is  not  to  be  classed  among  the 
ephemeral  productions,  which  are  calculated  to  produce 
a  party  purpose,  and  when  that  purpose  is  answered,  to 
expire  for  ever.  It  is  a  profound  and  learned  disquisi 
tion  on  the  principles  of  a  federal  representative  gov 
ernment,  and  combines  an  ardent  attachment  to  public 
liberty.  This  work  will  no  doubt  endure  as  long  as  any 
of  the  republican  institutions  of  this  country,  on  which  it 
is  so  luminous  and  elegant  a  commentary. 

His  voice  co-operated  with  his  pen.  In  the  conven 
tion  of  the  state,  which  met  to  deliberate  on  the  federal 
constitution,  he  was  returned  a  member,  and  was  always 
heard  with  awe,  perhaps,  with  conviction;  though  not 
always  with  success.  But  when  the  crisis  arrived; 
when  a  vote  was  to  determine  whether  New  York  should 
retain  or  relinquish  her  place  in  the  union;  and  prece 
ding  occurrences  made  it  probable  that  she  would  choose 
the  worst  part  of  the  alternative,  Hamilton  arose  in  re 
doubled  strength.  He  argued,  he  remonstrated,  he  en 
treated,  he  warned,  he  painted,  till  apathy  itself  was 
moved,  and  the  most  relentless  of  human  things,  a  pre 
concerted  majority,  was  staggered  and  broken.  Truth 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  135 

was  again  victorious,  and  New  York  enrolled  herself 
under  the  standard  of  the  federal  constitution. 

The  constitution  having  gone  into  operation,  and  the 
executive  departments  being  established,  Mr.  Hamilton 
was  appointed,  in  the  summer  of  1789,  to  the  office  of 
secretary  of  the  treasury.  The  task  of  recruiting  public 
credit,  of  drawing  order  and  arrangement  from  the 
chaotic  confusion  in  which  the  finances  of  America 
were  involved,  and  of  devising  means  which  should  ren 
der  the  revenue  productive,  and  commensurate  with  the 
demand,  in  a  manner  least  burdensome  to  the  people, 
was  justly  classed  among  the  most  arduous  of  the  duties 
which  devolved  on  the  new  government. 

This  office  he  held  between  five  and  six  years;  and 
when  we  look  back  to  the  measures  that  within  that  pe 
riod  he  originated,  matured,  and  vindicated,  we  are  as 
tonished  in  the  contemplation  of  the  various  powers 
of  his  ingenious  and  exalted  mind.  Mr.  Hamilton  is 
justly  considered  the  Founder  of  the  Public  Credit  of 
this  country. 

The  manner  in  which  the  several  states  entered  into 
and  conducted  the  war  of  the  revolution  will  be  recol 
lected.  Acting  in  some  respect  separately,  and  in  oth 
ers  conjointly,  for  the  attainment  of  a  common  object, 
their  resources  were  exerted,  sometimes  under  the  au 
thority  of  Congress,  sometimes  under  the  authority  of 
the  local  governments,  to  repel  the  enemy  wherever  he 
came.  The  debt  incurred  in  support  of  the  war  was 
therefore,  in  the  first  instance,  contracted  partly  by  the 
continent,  and  partly  by  the  states.  When  the  system 
of  requisition  was  adopted,  the  transactions  of  the  union 
were  carried  on,  in  a  great  degree,  through  the  agency 
of  the  states,  and  when  the  measure  of  compensating 
the  army,  for  the  depreciation  of  their  pay,  became  ne 
cessary,  this  burden,  under  the  recommendation  of  Con 
gress,  was  assumed  by  the  respective  states.  In  their 
exertions  to  meet  the  calls  of  Congress,  some  degree  of 
inequalitv  had  obtained,  and  they  looked  anxiously  to  a 
settlement  of  accounts  between  them. 

To  assume  these  debts,  and  to  fund  them  in  common 
with  that  which  continued  to  be  the  proper  debt  of  the 


136  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON* 

union,  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Hamilton,  in  his  first  report 
to  Congress,  as  secretary  of  the  treasury. 

This  celebrated  report,  which  has  been  alike  the 
fruitful  theme  of  extravagant  praise  and  bitter  censure, 
was  rigorously  opposed  in  Congress.  It  was  agreed  by 
all,  that  the  foreign  debt  should  be  provided  for  in  the 
manner  proposed  by  the  Secretary,  but  with  respect  to 
the  domestic  debt,  the  same  unanimity  was  far  from 
prevailing.  It  was  contended  that  the  general  govern 
ment  would  acquire  an  undue  influence,  and  that  the 
state  governments  would  be  annihilated  by  the  measure. 
Not  only  would  all  the  influence  of  the  public  creditors, 
be  thrown  into  the  scale  of  the  former,  but  it  would  ab 
sorb  all  the  powers  of  taxation,  and  leave  the  latter 
oniy  the  shadow  of  a  government.  This  would  proba 
bly  terminate  in  rendering  the  state  governments  useless, 
and  would  destroy  the  system  so  recently  established. 

The  constitutional  authority  of  the  federal  govern 
ment  to  assume  these  debts  was  questioned. 

On  the  ground  of  policy  it  was  objected,  that  the  as 
sumption  would  impose  on  the  United  States  a  burden, 
the  weight  of  which  was  unascertained,  and  which 
would  require  an  extension  of  taxation  beyond  the  lim 
its  which  prudence  would  prescribe.  That  the  debt,  by 
being  thus  accumulated,  would  be  perpetuated,  and  the 
Secretary  was  charged  with  the  doctrine,  "that  a  public 
debt  was  a  public  blessing." 

The  measure  was  said  to  be  unwise  too,  as  it  would 
affect  the  public  credit.  Such  an  augmentation  of  the 
debt  must  inevitably  depreciate  its  value;  since  it  was 
the  character  of  paper,  whatever  denomination  it  might 
assume,  to  diminish  in  value  in  proportion  to  the  quan 
tity  in  circulation. 

In  support  of  the  assumption,  the  debts  of  the  states 
were  traced  to  their  origin.  America,  it  was  said,  had 
engaged  in  a  war,  the  object  of  which  was  equally  in 
teresting  to  every  part  of  the  union.  It  was  not  the  war 
of  a  particular  state,  but  of  the  United  States.  It  was 
not  the  liberty  and  independence  of  a  part,  but  of  the 
whole,  for  which  they  had  contended,  and  which  they 
had  acquired.  The  cause  was  a  common  cause.  As 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  1*37 

brethren,  the  American  people  had  consented  to  hazard 
property  and  life  in  its  defence.  All  the  sums  expended 
in  this  great  object,  whatever  might  be  the  authority 
under  which  they  were  raised  or  appropriated,  condu 
ced  to  the  same  end.  Troops  were  raised  and  military 
stores  were  purchased,  before  Congress  assumed  the 
command  of  the  army,  or  control  of  the  war.  The  am 
munition  which  repulsed  the  enemy  at  Bunker's  Hill, 
was  purchased  by  Massachusetts,  and  formed  a  part  of 
the  debt  of  that  state. 

The  great  moving  principle  which  governed  Hamilton 
in  his  department  was  good  faith.  "Public  credit,"  said 
he,  "could  only  be  maintained  by  good  faith,  by  a  punc 
tual  performance  of  contracts;"  and,  good  faith  was 
recommended  not  only  by  the  strongest  inducements  of 
political  expediency,  but  was  enforced  by  considerations 
of  still  higher  authority.  There  are  arguments  for  it 
which  rest  on  the  immutable  principles  of  moral  obliga 
tion.  And  in  proportion  as  the  mind  is  disposed  to  con 
template  in  the  order  of  Providence,  an  intimate  con 
nexion  between  public  virtue  and  public  happiness,  will 
be  its  repugnancy  to  a  violation  of  those  principles. 

"This  reflection,"  he  said,  "derived  additional  strength 
from  the  nature  of  the  debt  of  the  United  States.  It 
was  the  price  of  liberty.  The  faith  of  America  had  been 
repeatedly  pledged  for  it,  and  with  solemnities  that  gave 
peculiar  force  to  the  obligation." 

His  report,  though  strenuously  opposed,  was  finally 
adopted,  and  under  his  administration,  the  finances  ad 
vanced  to  a  state  of  prosperity  beyond  all  expectations, 
and  so'  as  to  engage  the  attention,  and  command  the 
confidence  of  Europe.  The  effect  was  electrical.  Com 
merce  revived,  the  ploughshare  glittered;  property  re 
covered  its  value;  credit  was  established;  revenue 
created;  the  treasury  filled. 

The  insinuation  that  has  often  been  inculcated,  that 
Hamilton  patronized  the  doctrine,  that  a  public  debt 
was  a  public  blessing,  is  without  the  shadow  of  a  foun 
dation.  He  inculcates  with  great  solicitude  in  his  re 
ports,  that  "the  progressive  accumulation  of  debts  was 
the  natural  disease  of  governments;  that  it  ought  to  be 

S 


138  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

guarded  against  with  provident  foresight  and  inflexihle 
perseverance;  that  it  ought  to  be  a  fundamental  maxim 
in  the  system  of  public  credit,  that  the  creation  of  public 
debt  should  always  be  accompanied  with  the  means  of  ex- 
tinguishment" 

The  beneficial  effects  of  the  measures  recommended 
by  Hamilton  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury;  and  which 
are  known  and  felt  constantly,  have  at  last  accomplish 
ed  what  argument  alone  could  not  do — they  forced  a 
universal  conviction  on  the  public  mind;  and  all  the 
dread  spectres  which  were  conjured  up  at  the  time  to 
terrify  the  imagination,  and  blind  the  judgment,  have 
long  since  disappeared  before  the  light  of  experience. 
He  has  left  to  his  successor  little  more  to  do  than  to 
follow  his  precepts,  and  to  shine  by  the  lustre  of  his  ex 
ample. 

Mr.  Hamilton,  in  his  character  of  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  was  also  one  of  the  constitutional  advisers  of 
the  president,  in  relation  generally  to  the  duties  of  his 
office. 

In  January,  1795.  Hamilton  resigned  the  office  of  sec 
retary  of  the  treasury,  and  once  more  returned  to  pri 
vate  life.  In  the  rage  and  rancour  of  party,  at  the  time, 
no  wonder  that  the  tongue  of  slander  followed  him.  So 
fair  was  the  opportunity  of  acquiring  a  princely  fortune 
which  was  presented  to  him,  and  the  disposition  to  profit 
by  it,  so  little  at  variance  with  the  common  estimate  of 
honourable  gain,  that  few  supposed  it  possible  to  resist 
the  temptation.  The  fact  being  presumed,  every  petly 
politician  erected  himself  into  a  critic;  while  the  ga 
zettes,  the  streets,  the  polls  of  election,  resounded  with 
the  millions  amassed  by  the  Secretary.  It  is  natural 
that  the  idolaters  of  gold  should  treat  the  contempt  of  it 
as  a  chimera.  But  gold  was  not  the  idol  of  HAMILTON. 
Exquisitely  delicate  toward  official  character,  he  touch 
ed  none  of  the  advantages  which  he  put  within  the  reach 
of  others;  he  vested  not  a  dollar  in  the  public  funds. — 
He  entered  into  the  public  service  with  property  of  his 
own,  the  well-earned  reward  of  professional  talent;  he 
continued  in  it  till  his  funds  were  gone; and  left  it.  to  get 
bread  for  a  suffering  family.  It  was  surely  enough  that 


AEEXANDFR    HAMILTON.  139 

he  had  impoverished  himself  while  he  was  enriching  the 
commonwealth;  but  it  was  beyond  measure  insulting  to 
charge  him,  under  such  circumstances,  with  invading  the 
public  purse. 

The  last  great  occasion  which  called  Hamilton  upon, 
the  theatre  of  public  action,  existed  in  the  spring  of  the 
year  1789.  It  will  be  recollected  that  France  had  been 
long  making  piratical  depredations  upon  our  commerce; 
that  our  ministers  had  been  treated  with  the  grossest 
indignity,  and  money  demanded  of  the  United  States  on 
terms  the  most  degrading.  Open  and  determined  war 
was  the  consequence. 

Washington  was  appointed  Lieutenant-Genera]  and 
Commander-in-chief.  The  following  letter  from  him  to 
President  Adams,  on  the  subject  of  appointing  Hamil 
ton  to  the  second  in  command,  shows  his  high  standing 
in  the  opinion  of  the  illustrious  Washington. 

"  Mouni-Vernon,  Sept.  25,  178°. 

"  It  is  an  invidious  task,  at  all  times,  to  draw  compar 
isons,  and  I  shall  avoid  it  as  much  as  possible;  but  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  declaring,  that  if  the  public  is  to 
be  deprived  of  the  services  of  Col.  Hamilton  in  the  mil 
itary  line,  the  post  he  was  destined  to  fill  will  not  easily 
be  supplied — and  that  this  is  the  sentiment  of  the  public, 
I  think  I  may  venture  to  pronounce.  Although  Colonel 
Hamilton  has  never  acted  in  the  character  of  a  general 
officer,  yet  his  opportunities,  as  the  principal  and  most 
confidential  aid  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  afforded  him 
the  means  of  viewing  every  thing  on  a  larger  scale  than 
those  who  had  only  divisions  and  brigades  to  attend  to; 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  correspondences  of  the  Com 
mander  in  Chief,  or  of  the  various  orders  to,  or  trans 
actions  with,  the  general  staff  of  the  army.  These  ad 
vantages,  and  his  having  served  with  usefulness  in  the 
old  Congress,  in  the  general  convention,  and  having 
filled  one  of  the  most  important  departments  of  gov 
ernment  with  acknowledged  abilities  and  integrity,  have 
placed  him  on  high  ground ;  and  made  him  a  conspicuous 
character  in  the  United  States,  and  even  in  Europe.  To 
these,  as  a  matter  of  no  small  consideration,  may  be 


140  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

added,  that  as  a  lucrative  practice  in  the  line  of  his 
profession  is  his  most  certain  dependence,  the  induce 
ment  to  relinquish  it  must  in  some  degree  be  commen 
surate.  By  some  he  is  considered  as  an  ambitious  man, 
and  therefore  a  dangerous  one.  That  he  is  ambitious  I 
shall  readily  grant,  but  it  is  of  that  laudable  kind,  which 
prompts  a  man  to  excel  in  whatever  he  takes  in  hand. 

*k  He  is  enterprising,  quick  in  his  perceptions — and  his 
judgment  intuitively  great:  qualities  essential  to  a  great 
military  character;  and  therefore  I  repeat,  that  his  loss 
will  be  irreparable" 

"GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

Hamilton  was  accordingly  appointed  Inspector  Gen 
eral,  agreeable  to  the  wishes  of  Washington.  On  the 
death  of  that  great  man.  he  succeeded  to  the  office  of 
Commander  in  Chief,  and  continued  in  that  character, 
until  the  army  was  disbanded  in  the  summer  of  1800, 
when  he  returned  again  to  his  profession  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  In  this  place  he  passed  the  remainder  of 
his  days. 

In  June,  1804,  Colonel  Burr,  Vice-president  of  the 
United  States,  addressed  a  letter  to  general  Hamilton, 
requiring  his  acknowledgment  or  denial  of  the  use  of 
any  expression  derogatory  to  the  honour  of  the  former. 
Perhaps  the  most  satisfactory  manner  of  introducing  the 
reader  to  this  subject,  will  be  to  begin  with  the  corres: 
pondence  which  led  to  the  fatal  interview.  It  is  as 
follows: 

New  York,  June,  18,  1804] 

Sir — I  send  for  your  perusal  a  letter  signed  Charles 
D.  Cooper,  which,  though  apparently  published  some 
time  ago,  has  but  very  recently  come  to  my  knowledge. 
Mr.  Van  Ness,  who  does  me  the  favour  to  deliver  this, 
will  point  out  to  you  that  clause  of  the  letter  to  which  I 
particularly  request  your  attention. 

You  must  perceive,  Sir,  the  necessity  of  a  prompt  and 
unqualified  acknowledgment  or  denial  of  the  use  of  any 
expression  which  would  warrant  the  assertions  of  Dr. 
Cooper. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON'.  141 

I  have  the  honour  to  be 

Your  obedient  serv't, 

A.  BURR, 
Gen.  Hamilton. 

New  York,  June  20,  1804. 

Sir — I  have  maturely  reflected  on  the  subject  of 
your  letter  of  the  18th  inst.  and  the  more  I  have  re 
flected  the  more  I  have  become  convinced,  that  I  could 
not,  without  manifest  impropriety,  make  the  avowal  or 
disavowal  which  you  seem  to  think  necessary.  The 
clause  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Van  Ness  is  in  these  terms: 
"  1  could  detail  to  you  a  still  more  despicable  opinion 
which  General  Hamilton  had  expressed  of  Mr.  Burr." 
To  endeavour  to  discover  the  meaning  of  this  declara 
tion,  I  was  obliged  to  seek,  in  the  antecedent  part  of 
this  letter,  for  the  opinion  to  which  it  referred,  as  having 
been  already  disclosed.  I  found  it  in  these  words: — 
"General  Hamilton  and  Judge  Kent  have  declared,  in 
substance,  that  they  looked  upon  Mr.  Burr  to  be  a  dan 
gerous  man,  and  one  who  ought  not  to  be  trusted  with 
the  reins  of  government." 

The  language  of  Dr.  Cooper  plainly  implies,  that  he 
considered  this  opinion  of  you,  which  he  attributes  to 
me,  as  a  despicable  one;  but  he  affirms  that  I  have  ex 
pressed  some  other,  more  despicable,  without,  however, 
mentioning  to  whom,  when  or  where.  'Tis  evident  that 
the  phrase,  "still  more  despicable,"  admits  of  infinite 
shades,  from  very  light  to  very  dark.  How  am  I  to 
judge  of  the  degree  intended?  or  how  shall  I  annex  any 
precise  idea  to  language  so  indefinite? 

Between  gentlemen,  despicable  and  more  despicable  are 
not  worth  the  pains  of  distinction;  when,  therefore, you 
do  not  interrogate  me,  as  to  the  opinion  which  is  spe 
cifically  ascribed  to  me,  1  must  conclude,  that  you  view 
it  as  within  the  limits  to  which  the  animadversions  of 
political  opponents  upon  each  other  may  justifiably  ex 
tend,  and  consequently  as  not  warranting  the  idea  of  it 
which  Dr.  Cooper  appears  to  entertain.  If  so,  what 
precise  inference  could  you  draw,  as  a  guide  for  your 
conduct,  were  I  to  acknowledge  that  I  had  expressed 


142  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

an  opinion  of  yon  still  more  despicable  than  the  one  which 
is  particularized?  How  could  you  be  sure  that  even  this 
opinion  had  exceeded  the  bounds  which  you  would 
yourself  deem  admissible  between  political  opponents? 

But  I  forbear  further  comment  on  the  embarrassment, 
to  which  the  requisition  you  have  made  naturally  leads. 
The  orcasion  forbids  a  more  ample  illustration,  though 
nothing  could  be  more  easy  than  to  pursue  it. 

Repeating  that  I  cannot  reconcile  it  with  propriety  to 
make  the  acknowledgment  or  denial  you  desire,  I  will 
add  that  I  deem  it  inadmissible  on  principle,  to  consent 
to  be  interrogated  as  to  the  justness  of  the  inferences 
which  may  be  drawn  by  others  from  whatever  I  may 
have  said  of  a  political  opponent,  in  the  course  of  fifteen 
years  competition.  If  there  were  no  other  objection  to 
it,  this  is  sufficient,  that  it  would  tend  to  expose  my  sin 
cerity  and  delicacy  to  injurious  imputations  from  every 
person  who  may  at  any  time  have  conceived  the  import 
of  my  expressions,  differently  from  what  I  may  then 
have  intended  or  may  afterward  recollect.  I  stand 
ready  to  vow  or  disavow  promptly  and  explicitly  any 
precise  and  definite  opinion  which  I  may  be  charged 
with  having  declared  of  any  gentleman.  More  than  this 
cannot  be  fitly  expected  from  me;  and  especially  it  can 
not  be  reasonably  expected  that  I  shall  enter  into  an 
explanation  upon  a  basis  so  vague  as  that  which  you 
have  adopted.  I  trust,  on  more  reflection,  you  will  see 
the  matter  in  the  same  light  with  me.  If  not,  I  can  only 
regret  the  circumstances,  and  must  abide  the  conse 
quences. 

The  publication  of  Dr.  Cooper  was  never  seen  by  me 
till  after  the  receipt  of  your  letter. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,&c. 

A.  HAMILTON. 
Col.  Burr. 

New  York^June  21s/,  1804. 

Sir — Your  letter  of  the  20th  instant  has  been  this  day 
received.  Having  considered  it  attentively,  I  regret  to 
find  in  it  nothing  of  that  sincerity  and  delicacy  which  you 
profess  to  value. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  143 

Political  opposition  can  never  absolve  gentlemen  from 
the  necessity  of  a  rigid  adherence  to  the  laws  of  honour, 
and  the  rules  of  decorum.  I  neither  claim  such  privi 
lege  nor  indulge  it  in  others. 

The  common  sense  of  mankind  affixes  to  the  epithet 
adopted  by  Dr.  Cooper,  the  idea  of  dishonour.  It  has 
been  publicly  applied  to  me  under  the  sanction  of  your 
name.  The  question  is  not,  whether  he  has  understood 
the  meaning  of  the  word,  or  has  used  it  according  to 
syntax,  and  with  grammatical  accuracy;  but,  whether 
you  have  authorized  this  application,  either  directly  or 
by  uttering  expressions  or  opinions  derogatory  to  my 
honour.  The  time  "when"  is  in  your  own  knowledge, 
but  no  way  material  to  me,  as  the  calumny  has  now 
first  been  disclosed,  so  as  to  become  the  subject  of  my 
notice,  and  as  the  effect  is  present  and  palpable. 

Your  letter  has  furnished  me  with  new  reasons  for 
requiring  a  definite  reply. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be. 

Sir, your  obedient, 

A.  BURR, 
Gen.  Hamilton. 

On  Saturday,  the  22d  of  June,  General  Hamilton,  for 
the  first  time,  called  on  Mr.  Pendleton,  and  commuica- 
ted  to  him  the  preceding  correspondence.  He  informed 
him  that  in  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Van  Ness,  at  the 
time  of  receiving  the  last  letter,  he  told  Mr.  Van  Ness 
that  he  considered  that  letter  as  rude  and  offensive,  and 
that  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  give  it  any  other 
answer  than  that  Mr.  Burr  must  take  such  steps  as  he 
might  think  proper.  He  said  further,  that  Mr.  Van  Ness 
requested  him  to  take  time  to  deliberate,  and  then  re 
turn  an  answer,  when  he  might  possibly  entertain  a  dif 
ferent  opinion,  and  that  he  would  call  on  him  to  receive 
it.  That  his  reply  to  Mr.  Van  Ness  was,  that  he  did 
not  perceive  it  possible  for  him  to  give  any  other  answer 
than  that  he  had  mentioned,  unless  Mr.  Burr  would  take 
back  his  last  letter  and  write  one  which  would  admit  of 
a  different  reply.  He  then  gave  Mr.  Pendleton  the 
letter  hereafter  mentioned,  of  the  22d  June,  to  be 


144  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

delivered  to  Mr.  Van  Ness,  when  he  should  call   on  Mr. 
Pendleton  for  an  answer,  and  went  to  his  country  house. 
The  next  day   General  Hamilton   received,  while 
there,  the  following  letter; — 

June  22d,  1804. 

Sir — In  the  afternoon  of  yesterday,  I  reported  to  Col. 
Burr  the  result  of  my  last  interview  with  you,  and  ap 
pointed  the  evening  to  receive  his  further  instructions. 
Some  private  engagements,  however,  prevented  me  from 
calling  on  him  till  this  morning.  On  my  return  to  the 
city,  I  found,  upon  inquiry,  both  at  your  office  and  house, 
that  you  had  returned  to  your  residence  in  the  country. 
Lest  an  interview  there  midit  be  less  agreeable  to  you 
than  elsewhere,!  have  taken  the  liberty  of  addressing  you 
this  note  to  inquire  when  and  where  it  will  be  most  con 
venient  for  you  to  receive  a  communication, 

Your  most  obedient  and  very  humble  servant, 

W.  P.  VAN  NESS. 
Gen.  Hamilton. 

Mr.  Pendleton  understood  from  General  Hamilton 
that  he  immediately  answered,  that  if  the  communica 
tion  was  pressing  he  would  receive  it  at  his  country 
house  that  day;  if  not,  he  would  be  at  his  house  in  town 
the  next  morning  at  nine  o'clock.  But  he  did  not  give  Mr. 
Pendleton  any  copy  of  this  note. 

New  York,  June  22,  1804. 

Sir — Your  first  letter,  in  a  style  too  peremptory,  made 
a  demand,  in  my  opinion,  unprecedented  and  unwarrant 
able.  My  answer,  pointing  out  the  embarrassment,  gave 
you  an  opportunity  to  take  a  less  exceptionable  course. 
You  have  not  chosen  to  do  it;  but  by  your  last  letter, 
received  this  day,  containing  expressions  indecorous  and 
improper,  you  have  increased  the  difficulties  to  expla 
nation  intrinsically  incident  to  the  nature  of  your  ap 
plication. 

If  by  a  "definite  reply,"  you  mean  the  direct  avowal 
or  disavowal  in  your  first  letter,  I  have  no  other  answer 
to  give,  than  that  which  has  already  been  given.  If 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  146 

you  mean  any  thing  different,  admitting  of  greater  lati 
tude,  it  is  requisite  you  should  explain. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

Sir,  your  obedient  serv't, 
ALEXANDER  HAMILTON, 
Aaron  Burr,  Esq. 

This  letter,  although  dated  on  the  22d  June,  remain 
ed  in  Mr.  Pendleton's  possession  until  the  25th,  within 
which  period  he  had  several  conversations  with  Mr. 
Van  Ness.  In  these  conversations  Mr.  Pendleton  en 
deavoured  to  illustrate  and  force  the  propriety  of  the 
ground  General  Hamilton  had  taken.  Mr.  Pendleton 
mentioned  to  Mr.  Van  Ness  as  the  result,  that  if  Col. 
Burr  would  write  a  letter,  requesting  to  know  in  sub 
stance  whether,  in  the  conversation  to  which  Dr.  Coo 
per  alluded,  any  particular  instance  of  dishonourable 
conduct  was  imputed  to  Col.  Burr,  or  whether  there  was 
any  impeachment  of  his  private  character,  General 
Hamilton  would  declare  to  the  best  of  his  recollection, 
what  passed  in  that  conversation;  and  Mr.  Pendleton 
read  to  Mr.  Van  Ness  a  paper  containing  the  substance 
of  what  General  Hamilton  would  say  on  that  subject, 
which  is  as  follows: — 

"General  Hamilton  says  he  cannot  imagine  to  what 
Doctor  Cooper  rmiy  have  alluded,  unless  it  were  to  a 
conversation  at  Mr.  Tayler's  in  Albany,  last  winter,  (at 
which  he  and  Gen.  Hamilton  were  present.)  General 
Hamilton  cannot  recollect  distinctly  the  particulars  of 
that  conversation  so  as  to  undertake  to  repeat  them, 
without  running  the  risk  of  varying,  or  omitting  what 
might  be  deemed  important  circumstances.  The  ex 
pressions  are  entirely  forgotten,  and  the  specific  ideas 
imperfectly  remembered;  but  to  the  best  of  his  recol 
lection  it  consisted  of  comments  on  the  political  princi 
ples  and  views  of  Colonel  Burr,  and  the  result  that 
might  be  expected  from  them  in  the  event  of  his  election 
as  governor,  without  reference  to  any  particular  instance 
of  past  conduct,  or  to  private  character." 


146  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

After  the  delivery  of  the  letter  of  the  22d,  as  above 
mentioned,  in  another  interview  with  Mr.  Van  Ness,  he 
desired  Mr.  Pendleton  to  give  him  in  writing  the  sub 
stance  of  what  he  had  proposed  on  the  part  of  General 
Hamilton,  which  Mr.  Pendleton  did  in  the  words  follow 
ing: — 

"In  answer  to  a  letter,  properly  adapted  to  obtain 
from  General  Hamilton  a  declaration  whether  he  had 
charged  Col.  Burr  with  any  particular  instance  of  dis 
honorable  conduct,  or  had  impeached  his  private  charac 
ter,  either  in  the  conversation  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Cooper, 
or  in  any  other  particular  instance  to  be  specified:  he 
would  be  able  to  answer  consistently  with  his  honour, 
and  the  truth,  in  substance,that  the  conversation  to  which 
Dr.  Cooper  alluded,  turned  wholly  on  political  topics, 
and  did  not  attribute  to  Colonel  Burr  any  instance  of 
dishonourable  conduct,  nor  relate  to  his  private  charac 
ter;  and  in  relation  to  any  other  language  or  conversa 
tion  of  General  Hamilton  which  Colonel  Burr  will  spe 
cify,  a  prompt  and  frank  avowal  or  denial  will  be  given.'" 

On  the  26th  June,  Mr.  Pendleton  received  the  follow 
ing  letter: — 

Sir — The  letter  which  you  yesterday  delivered  me, 
and  your  subsequent  communication,  in  Colonel  Burr's 
opinion,  evince  no  disposition,  on  the  part  ofGen.'Ham- 
ilton  to  come  to  a  satisfactory  accommodation.  The 
injury  complained  of,  and  the  reparation  expected,  are 
so  definitely  expressed  in  Colonel  Burr's  letter  of  the 
21st  instant,  that  there  is  not  perceived  a  necessity  for 
further  explanation  on  his  part.  The  difficulty  that 
would  result  from  confining  the  inquiry  to  any  particular 
times  and  occasions  must  be  manifest.  The  denial  of 
a  specified  conversation  only,  would  leave  strong  impli 
cations  that  on  other  occasions  improper  language  had 
been  used.  When  and  where  injurious  opinions  have 
been  uttered  by  General  Hamilton,  must  be  best  known 
to  him,  and  of  him  only  will  Colonel  Burr  inquire.  JVb 
denial  or  declaration  will  be  satisfactory,  unless  it  be  general* 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  147 

so  as  wholly  to  exclude  the  idea  that  rumours  derogato 
ry  to  Col.  Burros  honour  have  originated  with  General 
Hamilton,  or  have  been  fairly  infer  red  from  any  thing  he 
has  said.  A  definite  reply  to  a  requisition  of  this  nature 
was  demanded  by  Col.  Burr's  letter  of.  the  21st  instant. 
This  being  refused,  invites  the  alternative  alluded  to  in 
General  Hamilton's  letter  of  the  20th. 

It  was  required  by  the  position  in  which  the  contro 
versy  was  placed  by  General  Hamilton,  on  Friday*  last, 
and  I  was  immediately  furnished  with  a  communication 
demanding  a  personal  interview.  The  necessity  of  this 
measure  has  not,  in  the  opinion  of  Colonel  Burr,  been 
diminished  by  the  General's  last  letter,  or  any  commu 
nication  which  has  since  been  received,  I  am  conse 
quently  again  instructed  to  deliver  you  a  message,  as 
soon  as  it  may  be  convenient  for  you  to  receive  it.  I 
beg,  therefore,  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  inform  me  at 
what  hour  I  can  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you. 
Your  most  obedient  and  very  humble  servant, 

W.  P.  VAN  NESS: 
Nathaniel  Pendleton,  Esq, 

June  26^. 

26th  June,  1804. 

Sir — I  have  communicated  the  letter  which  you  did 
me  the  honour  to  write  to  me  of  this  date,  to  General 
Hamilton.  The  expectations  now  disclosed  on  the  part 
of  Colonel  Burr,  appear  to  him  to  have  greatly  extend 
ed  the  original  ground  of  inquiry,  and  instead  of  present 
ing  a  particular  and  definite  case  of  explanation,  seem 
ed  to  aim  at  nothing  less  than  an  inquisition  into  his 
most  confidential  conversations,  as  well  as  others, 
through  the  whole  period  of  his  acquaintance  with  Col. 
Burr. 

While  he  was  prepared  to  meet  the  particular  case 
fairly  and  fully,  he  thinks  it  inadmissible  that  he  should 
be  expected  to  answer  at  large  as  to  every  thing  that  he 
may  possibly  have  said,  in  relation  to  the  character  of 
Col.  Burr,  at  any  time  or  upon  any  occasion.  Though 

*June  2<2d 


148  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

he  is  not  conscious  that  any  charges  which  are  in  circu 
lation  to  the  prejudice  of  Colonel  Burr,  have  originated 
with  him,  except  one  which  may  have  been  so  consid 
ered,  and  which  has  long  since  been  fully  explained  be 
tween  Colonel  Burr  and  himself — yet  he  cannot  consent 
to  be  questioned  generally  as  to  any  rumours  which  may 
be  afloat  derogatory  to  the  character  of  Colonel  Burr, 
without  specification  to  the  several  rumours,  many  of 
them  probably  unknown  to  him.  He  does  not,  however* 
mean  to  authorize  any  conclusion  as  to  the  real  nature 
of  his  conduct  in  relation  to  Colonel  Burr,  by  his  de 
clining  so  loose  and  vague  a  basis  of  explanation,  and 
he  disavows  an  unwillingness  to  come  to  a  satisfactory, 
provided  it  be  an  honourable,  accommodation.  His 
objection  is,  the  very  indefinite  ground  which  Col.  Burr 
has  assumed,  in  which  he  is  sorry  to  be  able  to  discern 
nothing  short  of  predetermined  hostility.  Presuming, 
therefore,  that  it  will  be  adhered  to,  he  has  instructed 
me  to  receive  the  message  which  you  have  it  in  charge 
to  deliver.  For  this  purpose  I  shall  be  at  home,  and  at 
your  command,  to-morrow  morning,  from  eight  to  ten 
o'clock. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be  respectfully, 

your  obedient  servant, 
NATHANIEL  PENDLETON. 
Wm.  P.  Van  Ness,  Esq. 

Sir — The  letter  which  I  had  the  honour  to  receive, 
from  you,  under  date  of  yesterday,  states,  among  other 
things,  that  in  General  Hamilton's  opinion,  Col.  Burr  has 
taken  a  very  indefinite  ground,  in  which  he  evinces  noth 
ing  short  of  predetermined  hostility,  and  that  General 
Hamilton  thinks  it  inadmissible  that  the  inquiry  should 
extend  to  his  confidential  as  well  as  other  conversations. 
In  this  Colonel  Burr  can  -only  reply,  that  secret  whis 
pers  traducing  his  fame,  and  impeaching  his  honour,  are, 
at  least  equally  injurious  with  slanders  publicly  uttered; 
that  Gen.  Hamilton  had,  at  no  time,  and  in  no  place,  a 
right  to  use  any  such  injurious  expressions;  and  that  the 
partial  negative  he  is  disposed  to  give,  with  the  reserva 
tions  he  wishes  to  make,  are  proofs  that  he  has  done  the 
injury  specified. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  149 

Col.  Burr's  request  was,  in  the  first  instance,  proposed 
in  a  form  the  most  simple,  in  order  that  Gen.  Hamilton 
might  give  to  the  affair  that  course  to  which  he  might  be 
induced  by  his  temper  and  his  knowledge  of  facts.  Col. 
Burr  trusted  with  confidence,  that  from  the  frankness  of 
a  soldier  and  the  candour  of  a  gentleman,  he  might  ex 
pect  an  ingenuous  declaration.  That  if,  as  he  had  rea 
son  to  believe,  General  Hamilton  had  used  expressions 
derogatory  to  his  honour,  he  would  have  had  the  mag- 
nanimhy  to  retract  them;  and  that  if,  from  his  language, 
injurious  inferences  had  been  improperly  drawn, he  would 
have  perceived  the  propriety  of  correcting  errors,  which 
might  thus  have  been  widely  diffused.  With  these  im 
pressions,  Colonel  Burr  was  greatly  surprised  at  receiv 
ing  a  letter  which  he  considered  as  evasive,  and  which 
in  manner  he  deemed  not  altogether  decorous.  In  one 
expectation,  however,  he  was  not  wholly  deceived,  for 
the  close  of  General  Hamilton's  letter  contained  an 
intimation  that  if  Colonel  Burr  should  dislike  his  refu 
sal  to  acknowledge  or  deny,  he  was  ready  to  meet  the 
consequences.  This  Col.  Burr  deemed  a  sort  of  defi 
ance,  and  would  have  felt  justified  in  making  it  the  basis 
of  an  immediate  message.  But  as  the  communication 
contained  something  concerning  the  indefiniteness  of 
the  request:  as  he  believed  it  rather  the  offspring  of 
false  pride  than  of  reflection,  and  as  he  felt  the  utmost 
reluctance  to  proceed  to  extremities,  while  any  other 
hope  remained,  his  request  was  repeated  in  terms  more 
explicit.  The  replies  and  propositions  on  the  part  of 
General  Hamilton  have,  in  Col.  Burr's  opinion,  been 
constantly  in  substance  the  same. 

Colonel  Burr  disavows  all  motives  of  predetermined 
hostility,  a  charge  by  which  he  thinks  insult  added  to 
injury.  He  feels  as  a  gentleman  should  feel  when  his 
honor  is  impeached  or  assailed;  and  without  sensations 
of  hostility  or  wishes  of  revenge,  he  is  determined  to 
vindicate  that  honour  at  such  hazard  as  the  nature  of 
the  case  demands. 

The  length  to  which  this  correspondence  has  extended, 
only  tending  to  prove  that  the  satisfactory  redress,  ear 
nestly  desired,  cannot  be  obtained,  he  deems  it  useless 


150  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

to  offer  any  proposition  except  the  simple  message  which 
I  shall  now  have  the  honour  to  deliver. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  great  respect, 

your  very  humble  servant, 

W.  P.  VAN  NESS. 
Wednesday  Morning,  June  27th,  1 804. 

With  this  letter  a  message  was  received,  such  as 
was  to  be  expected,  containing  an  invitation,  which  was 
accepted,  and  Mr.  Pendleton  informed  Mr  Van  Ness  he 
should  hear  from  him  the  next  day  as  to  further  partic 
ulars. 

This  letter  was  delivered  to  General  Hamilton  on  thft 
same  evening,  and  a  very  short  conversation  ensued 
between  him  and  Mr.  Pendleton,  who  was  to  call  on  him 
early  the  next  morning  for  a  further  conference.  When 
he  did  so,  Gen.  Hamilton  said  he  had  not  understood 
whether  the  message  and  answer  was  definitely  conclu 
ded,  or  whether  another  meeting  was  to  take  place  for 
that  purpose  between  Mr.  Pendleton  and  Mr.  Van  Ness. 
Under  the  latter  impression,  and  as  the  last  letter  con 
tains  matter  that  naturally  led  to  animadversion,  he  gave 
Mr.  Pendleton  a  paper  of  remarks  in  his  own  hand  wri 
ting,  to  be  communicated  to  Mr.  Van  Ness,  if  the  state 
of  the  affair  rendered  it  proper, 

In  an  interview  with  Mr.  Van  Ness  on  the  same  day, 
after  explaining  the  causes  which  had  induced  General 
Hamilton  to  suppose  that  the  state  of  the  affair  did  not 
render  it  improper,  Mr.  Pendleton  offered  this  paper  to 
Mr.  Van  Ness ;  but  he  declined  receiving  it,  alleging  that 
he  considered  the  correspondence  as  closed  by  the  ac 
ceptance  of  the  message  that  he  had  delivered. 

Mr.  Pendleton  then  informed  Mr.  Van  Ness  of  the  in 
ducements  mentioned  by  General  Hamilton  in  the  paper, 
for  at  least  postponing  the  meeting  until  the  close  of  the 
Circuit ;  and  as  this  was  uncertain,  Mr.  Pendleton  was 
to  let  him  know  when  it  would  be  convenient. 

Here  we  think  it  most  proper  to  introduce  the  paper 
itself.  The  reader  will  form  his  own  judgment  whether 
it  was  not  Mr.  Van  Ness's  duty  to  have  received  it,  and 
shown  it  to  his  principal;  he  will  probably  exercise  his 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  151 

own  conjecture  too  as  to  Mr.  Van  Ness's  motives  for  not 
doing  so.     It  follows: — 

44  Remarks  on  the  letter  of  June  27,  1 804. 

"Whether  the  observations  on  this  letter  are  designed 
merely  to  justify  the  result  which  is  indicated  in  the 
close  of  the  letter,  or  may  be  intended  to  give  an  open 
ing  for  rendering  any  thing  explicit  which  may  have 
been  deemed  vague  heretofore,  can  only  be  judged  of  by 
the  sequel.  At  any  rate,  it  appears  to  me  necessary  not 
to  be  misunderstood.  Mr.  Pendleton  is  therefore  au 
thorized  to  say,  that  in  the  course  of  the  present  discus 
sion,  written  or  verbal,  there  has  been  no  intention  to 
evade,  defy,  or  insult,  but  a  sincere  disposition  to  avoid 
extremities  if  it  could  be  done  with  propriety.  With 
this  view,  General  Hamilton  has  been  ready  to  enter 
into  a  frank  and  free  explanation  on  any  and  every  ob 
ject  of  a  specific  nature;  but  not  to  answer  a  general 
and  abstract  inquiry,  embracing  a  period  too  long  for  any 
accurate  recollection,  and  exposing  him  to  unpleasant 
criticisms  from,  or  unpleasant  discussions  with,  any  and 
every  person,  who  may  have  understood  him  in  an  un 
favourable  sense.  This  (admitting  that  he  could  an 
swer  in  a  manner  the  most  satisfactory  to  Colonel  Burr) 
he  should  deem  inadmissible,  in  principle  and  precedent, 
and  humiliating  in  practice.  To  this  therefore  he  can 
never  submit.  Frequent  allusion  has  been  made  to  slan 
ders,  said  to  be  in  circulation.  Whether  they  are  open 
ly  or  in  whispers,  they  have  a  form  and  shape,  arid 
might  be  specified. 

"If  the  alternative  alluded  to  in  the  close  of  the  let 
ter  is  definitively  tendered,  it  must  be  accepted:  the 
time,  place,  and  manner,  to  be  afterward  regulated.  I 
should  not  think  it  right  in  the  midst  of  a  Circuit  Court 
to  withdraw  my  services  from  those  who  may  have  con 
fided  important  interests  to  me,  and  expose  them  to  the 
embarrassment  of  seeking  other  counsel,  who  may  not 
have  time  to  be  sufficiently  instructed  in  their  causes.  I 
shall  also  want  a  little  time  to  make  some  arrange 
ments  respecting  my  own  affairs." 


152  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

On  Friday  the  6th  of  July,  the  circuit  being  closed, 
Mr.  Pendleton  informed  Mr.  Van  Ness  that  General 
Hamilton  would  be  re'ady  at  any  time  after  the  Sunday 
following.  On  Monday  the  particulars  were  arranged— 
on  Wednesday  the  parties  met  at  Weahawk,  on  the 
Jersey  shore,  at  7  o'clock,  A.  M.  The  particulars  of 
what  then  took  place  will  appear  from  the  following 
statement. 

It  was  nearly  seven  in  the  morning  when  the  boat 
which  carried  General  Hamilton,  his  friend  Mr.  Pendle 
ton,  and  the  surgeon  mutually  agreed  on,  Doctor  Ho- 
sack,  reached  that  part  of  the  Jersey  shore  called  the 
Weahawk.  There  they  found  Mr.  Burr,  and  his  friend 
Mr.  Van  Ness,  who,  as  1  am  told,  had  been  employed 
since  their  arrival,  with  coats  off,  in  clearing  away  the 
bushes,  limbs  of  trees,  &c.  so  as  to  make  a  fair  opening. 
The  parties  in  a  few  moments  were  at  their  allotted 
situation:  when  Mr.  Pendleton  gave  the  word,  Mr.  Burr 
raised  his  arm  slowly,  deliberately  took  his  aim,  and 
fired.  His  ball  entered  General  Hamilton's  right  side: 
as  soon  as  the  bullet  struck  him,  he  raised  himself  invol 
untarily  on  his  toes,  turned  a  little  to  the  left  (at  which 
moment  his  pistol  went  off,)  and  fell  upon  his  face.  Mr. 
Pendleton  immediately  called  out  for  Dr.  Hosack,  who, 
in  running  to  the  spot,  had  to  pass  Mr.  Van  Ness  and 
Colonel  Burr;  but  Mr.  Van  Ness  had  the  cool  precau 
tion  to  cover  his  principal  with  an  umbrella,  so  that  Dr. 
Hosack  should  not  be  able  to  swear  that  he  saw  him 
on  the  field.  What  passed  after  this,  the  reader  will 
have  in  the  following  letter  from  Dr.  Hosack  himself. 

August  \lth,  1804. 

"Dear  Sir — To  comply  with  your  request  is  a  painful 
task ;  but  I  will  repress  my  feelings  while  I  endeavour  to 
furnish  you  with  an  enumeration  of  such  particulars 
relative  to  the  melancholy  end  of  our  beloved  friend 
Hamilton,  as  dwell  most  forcibly  on  my  recollection. 

"When  called  to  him,  upon  his  receiving  the  fatal 
wound,  I  found  him  half  sitting  on  the  ground,  supported 
in  the  arms  of  Mr.  Pendleton.  His  countenance  of  death 
I  shall  never  forget — He  had  at  that  instant  just  strength 


ALEXANDER    HAMILTON.  153 

to  say,  "This  is  a  mortal  wound,  Doctor;"  when  he 
sunk  away,  and  became  to  all  appearances  lifeless.  I 
immediately  stripped  up  his  clothes,  and  soon,  alas  ! 
ascertained  that  the  direction  of  the  hall  must  have 
been  through  some  vital  part.  His  pulses  were  not  to 
be  felt;  his  respiration  was  entirely  suspended;  and 
upon  laying  my  hand  on  his  heart  and  perceiving  no 
motion  there,  I  considered  him  as  irrecoverably  gone.  I 
however  observed  to  Mr.  Pendleton,  that  the  only 
chance  for  his  reviving  was  immediately  to  get  him  upon 
the  water.  We  therefore  lifted  him  up,  and  carried  him 
out  of  the  wood,  to  the  margin  of  the  bank,  where  the 
bargeman  aided  us  in  conveying  him  into  the  boat, 
which  immediately  put  off.  During  all  this  time  I  could 
not  discover  the  least  symptom  of  returning  life.  I  now 
rubbed  his  face,  lips,  and  temples,  with  spirits  of  harts 
horn,  applied  it  to  his  neck  and  breast,  and  to  his  wrists 
and  palms  of  his  hands,  and  endeavoured  to  pour  some 
into  his  mouth.  When  we  had  got,  as  I  should  judge, 
about  fifty  yards  from  the  shore,  some  imperfect  efforts 
to  breathe  were  for  the  first  time  manifest:  in  a  few 
minutes  he  sighed,  and  became  sensible  of  the  impres 
sion  of  the  hartshorn,  or  the  fresh  air  of  the  water:  he 
breathed;  his  eyes,  hardly  opened,  wandered,  without 
fixing  upon  any  objects:  to  our  great  joy  he  at  length 
spoke:  "My  vision  is  indistinct,"  were  his  first  words. 
His  pulse  became  more  perceptible:  his  respiration 
more  regular;  his  sight  returned.  I  then  examined  the 
wound  to  know  if  there  was  any  dangerous  discharge  of 
blood  ;  upon  slightly  pressing  his  side  it  gave  him  pain  ; 
on  which  I  desisted.  Soon  after  recovering  his  sight, 
he  happened  to  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  case  of  pistols, 
and  observing  the  one  he  had  had  in  his  hand  lying  on 
the  outside,  he  said, "Take care  of  that  pistol;  it  is  un 
discharged  and  still  cocked  ;  it  may  go  off  and  do  harm: 
Pendleton  knows,  (attempting  to  turn  his  head  towards 
him)  that  I  did  not  intend  to  fire  at  him."  "Yes,"  said 
Mr.  Pendleton,  understanding  his  wish,  "I  have  already 
made  Dr.  Ho'sack  acquainted  with  your  determination 
as  to  that."  He  then  closed  his  eyes  and  remained 
,  without  any  disposition  to  speak;  nor  did  he  sav 

U 


154  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

much  afterward,  excepting  in  reply  to  .my  questions  as  to 
his  feelings.     He  asked  me  once  or  twice  how  I  found 
his  pulse ;  and  he  informed  me  that  his  lower  extremities 
had  lost  all  feeling;  manifesting  to  me  that  he  entertain 
ed  no  hopes  that  he  should  long  survive.     I  changed  the 
posture  of  his  limbs,  but  to  no  purpose;  they  had  total 
ly  lost  their  sensibility.     Perceiving  that  we  approached 
the  shore,  he  said,  "Let  Mrs.  Hamilton  be  immediately 
sent  for — let  the  event  be  gradually  broken  to  her;  but 
give  her  hopes."     Looking   up  we  saw  his  friend  Mr. 
Bayard  standing  on  the   wharf  in  great  agitation.     He 
had  been  told  by  his  servant  that  General  Hamilton,  Mr. 
Pendleton,  and  myself,  had  crossed  the  river  in  a  boat 
together,  and  too  well  he   conjectured  the  fatal  errand, 
and  foreboded  the   dreadful    result.     Perceiving,  as  we 
came  nearer,  that  Mr.  Pendleton  and  myself  only  sat  up 
in  the  stern-sheet,  he  clasped  his  hands  together  in  the 
most  violent  apprehensions;  but  when  I  called  to  him  to 
have  a  cot  prepared,  and  he  at  the  same  time   saw  his 
poor  friend  lying  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  he  threw  up 
his  eyes  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  and  lamentation. 
Hamilton  alone  appeared  tranquil  and  composed.     We 
then   conveyed  him  as  tenderly   as  possible  up  to  the 
house.     The  distresses  of  this  amiable  family  were  such 
that  till  the  first  shock  was  abated,  they  were  scarcely 
able  to  summon  fortitude  enough  to  yield  sufficient  as 
sistance  to  their  dying  friend. 

"Upon  our  reaching  the  house  he  became  more  lan 
guid,  occasioned  probably  by  the  agitation  of  his  re 
moval  from  the  boat.  I  gave  him  a  little  weak  wine 
and  water.  When  he  recovered  his  feelings,  he  com 
plained  of  pain  in  his  back;  we  immediately  undressed 
him,  laid  him  in  bed,  and  darkened  the  room.  I  then  gave 
him  a  large  anodyne,  which  I  frequently  repeated.  Du 
ring  th*e  first  day  he  took  upwards  of  an  ounce  of  lauda 
num;  and  tepid  anodyne  fomentations  were  also 
applied  to  those  parts  nearest  the  seat  of  his  pain — Yet 
were  his  sufferings,  during  the  whole  of  the  day,  almost 
intolerable* 

*As  iiis  habit  was  delicate,  and  had  been  lately  rendered  more  feeble 
by  ill  health,  particularly  by  a  disorder  of  the  stomach  and  bowels,  I  care 
fully  avoided  all  those  remedies  which  are  usually  indicated  on  sucli  oc- 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  155 

i  had  not  the  shadow  of  a  hope  of  his  recovery,  and 
Dr.  Post,  whom  I  requested  might  be  sent  for  immediate 
ly  on  our  reaching  Mr.  Bayard's  house,  united  with  me 
in  this  opinion.  General  Key,  the  French  Consul,  also 
had  the  goodness  to  invite  the  surgeons  of  the  French 
frigates  in  our  harbour,  as  they  had  had  much  experi 
ence  in  gun-shot  wounds,  to  render  their  assistance. 
They  immediately  came;  but  to  prevent  his  being  dis 
turbed  1  stated  to  them  his  situation,  described  the  na 
ture  of  his  wound  and  the  direction  of  the  ball,  with  all 
the  symptoms  that  could  enable  them  to  form  an  opin 
ion  as  to  the  event.  One  of  the  gentlemen  then  accom 
panied  me  to  the  bed-side.  The  result  was  a  confirma 
tion  of  the  opinion  that  had  already  been  expressed  by 
Dr.  Post  and  myself. 

During  the  night,  he  had  some  imperfect  sleep ;  but  the 
succeeding  morning  his  symptoms  were  aggravated,  at 
tended  however  with  a  diminution  of  pain.  His  mind 
retained  all  its  usual  strength  and  composure.  The 
great  source  of  his  anxiety  seemed  to  be  in  his  sympa 
thy  with  his  half  distracted  wife  and  children.  He 
spoke  to  me  frequently  of  them — "My  beloved  wife  and 
children,"  were  always  his  expressions.  But  his  forti 
tude  triumphed  over  his  situation,  dreadful  as  it  was; 
once,  indeed,  at  the  sight  of  his  children  brought  to  the 
bed-side  together,  seven  in  number,  his  utterance  forsook 
him;  he  opened  his  eyes,  gave  them  one  look,  and  clos 
ed  them  again,  till  they  were  taken  away.  As  a  proof 
of  his  extraordinary  composure  of  mind,  let  me  add, 
that  he  alone  could  calm  the  frantic  grief  of  their  moth 
er.  "Remember,  my  Eliza,  you  are  a  Christian"  were 
the  expressions  with  which  he  frequently,  with  a  firm 
voice,  but  in  a  pathetic  and  impressive  manner,  ad 
dressed  her.  His  words,  and  the  tone  in  which  they 
were  uttered,  will  never  be  effaced  from  my  memory. 
At  about  two  o'clock,  as  the  public  well  know,  he  ex- 
pired.t 

fExtracts  from  Facts  and  Documents  rotative  to  the  death  of  Genera' 
Hamilton. 


156  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

"Incorrupta  fides — nndaque  veritas 
Quando  ulliirn  invenient  pareml 
Multis  ille  quidem  flebilis  occidit." 

Who  would  believe,  had  not  the  fact  evinced  it,  that 
the  son  of  the  venerable  President  Burr,  that  model  of 
Christian  patience,  charity,  and  meekness;  that  the  son 
of  such  a  man,  the  second  officer  in  the  United  States, 
should  in  direct  violation  of  the  laws  of  heaven  and  his 
own  state;  after  every  means  of  reconciliation  on  the 
part  of  the  unfortunate  deceased,  that  was  consistent 
with  honour,  had  been  exhausted,  should  take  a  cool 
and  deliberate  aim  against  the//"rsf  citizen  of  our  coun 
try;  the  father  of  a  numerous  family  ;  the  husband  of  a 
most  affectionate  wife;  an  ornament  to  his  country  and 
human  nature.  Could  nothing  but  his  blood  atone  for 
expressions  honestly  intended  for  the  public  good,  and 
authorized  by  every  just  principle  of  an  elective  gov 
ernment?  Could  nothing  allay  the  cool,  persevering, 
and  premeditated  resentment  of  his  antagonist,  but  the 
heart's  blood  of  such  a  man? 

Well,  he  is  gone!  Gone  with  the  tenderest  esteem,  the 
highest  respect,  the  most  affectionate  tears  that  ever  fell 
on  the  tomb  of  a  public  character.  He  has  gone  to  re 
ceive  the  rich  reward  of  the  many  and  great  exertions 
for  his  country's  welfare.  Trusting  in  the  merits  of  his 
Saviour,  penitent  for  his  past  sins,  forgiving  even  the  foe 
from  whom  he  received  his  mortal  wound  ;  he  is  gone  to 
receive  that  recompense  of  reward,  which  is  the  meed 
of  the  truly  upright  and  benevolent. 

Far  be  it  from  us,  at  this  time,  to  excite  the  angry 
passions  against  the  guilty  author  of  this  mighty  ruin. 
He  lives,  and  long  may  he  live,  his  hands  stained  with 
blood  unrighteously  shed  \  But  we  cannot  refrain  from 
giving  a  place  to  the  following  circumstances,  which 
occurred  in  the  city  of  Albany  soon  after  the  death  of 
Hamilton 

"On  Sunday  morning  the  afflicted  Mrs.  Hamilton  at 
tended  service  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  this  city, 
with  her  three  little  ones. 

"At  the  close  of  a  prayer  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Nott,  the 
eldest  dropped  on  his  face,  in  a  fainting  fit. 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  157 

"Two  gentlemen  immediately  raised  him,  and  while 
bearing  him  out  of  Church,  the  afflicted  mother  sprung 
forward,  in  the  agonies  of  grief  and  despair,  towards  her 
apparently  lifeless  son. 

"The  heart-rending  scene  she  had  recently  struggled 
with,  called  forth  all  the  fine  spun  sensibilities  of  her 
nature;  and  seemed  to  say  nature  must,  and  will  be  in 
dulged,  in  her  keenest  sorrows.  She  was  overpowered 
in  the  conflict,  and  likewise  sunk,  uttering  such  heart 
rending  groans,  and  inward  sighs,  as  would  have  melted 
into  mingled  sympathies,  even  Burr  himself. 

"Both  of  them  stoocl  recovered;  and  while  the  little 
son  was  supported  standing  on  the  steps,  yet  speechless, 
the  most  affecting  scene  presented  itself.  The  mother 
in  this  tender  situation,  fastened  herself  upon  the  son, 
with  her  head  reclining  on  his  left  shoulder;  the  agonies 
so  strongly  painted  in  her  countenance ;  her  long  flowing 
weeds;  the  majesty  of  her  person;  the  position  of  both; 
and  above  all,  the  peculiarity  of  their  trying  situation  in 
the  recent  loss  of  a  husband  and  a  father;  who  could 
refrain  from  invoking  on  the  head  of  the  guilty  author  of 
their  miseries,  those  curses  he  so  richly  merits?  The 
curse  of  living  despised,  and  execrated  by  the  voice  of 
a  whole  nation;  the  curse  of  being  held  up  to  the  view 
of  future  ages,  a  MONSTER  and  an  ASSASSIN." 

"After  the  death  of  General  Hamilton,  a  note  which 
had  been  written  the  evening  before  the  interview,  was 
found,  addressed  to  the  gentleman  who  accompanied 
him  to  the  field;  thanking  him  with  tenderness  for  his 
friendship  to  him,  and  informing  him  where  would  be 
found  the  keys  of  certain  drawers  in  his  desk,  in  which 
he  had  deposited  such  papers  as  he  thought  proper  to 
leave  behind  him;  together  with  his  last  Will. 

The  following  paper,  as  containing  his  motives  for  ac 
cepting  the  challenge;  his  reflections  on  his  situation; 
and  some  remarks  on  the  conduct  of  the  man,  who  was 
to  be  the  cause  of  his  death,  is  presented  as  a  highly 
interesting  document. 


158  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

On  my  expected  interview  with  Col.  Burr,  I  think  it 
proper  to  make  some  remarks  explanatory  of  my  con 
duct,  motives,  and  views. 

I  was  certainly  desirous  of  avoiding  this  interview  for 
the  most  cogent  reasons. 

1.  My  religious  and  moral  principles  are  strongly 
opposed  to  the  practice  of  duelling,  and  it  would  ever 
give  me  pain  to  be  obliged  to  shed  the  blood  of  a  fel 
low-creature  in  a  private  combat  forbidden  by  the  laws. 

2.  My  wife  and  children  are   extremely   dear  to  me, 
and  my  life  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  them,  in  va 
rious  views. 

3.  I  feel  a  sense  of  obligation  towards  my  creditors; 
who  incase  of  accident  to  me, by  the  forced  sale  of  my 
property,   may  be  in  some  degree  sufferers.     I   did  not 
think  myself  at   liberty  as  a  man  of  probity,  lightly  to 
expose  them  to  this  hazard, 

4.  I  am  conscious  of  no  ill  will  to  Colonel  Burr,  dis 
tinct  from  political  opposition,  which,  as  I  trust,  has  pro 
ceeded  from  pure  and  upright  motives. 

Lastly,  I  shall  hazard  much,  and  can  possibly  gain 
nothing  by  the  issue  of  the  interview. 

But  it  was,  as  I  conceive,  impossible  for  me  to  avoid 
it.  There  were  intrinsic  difficulties  in  the  thing,  and 
artificial  embarrassments  from  the  manner  of  proceeding 
on  the  part  of  Col.  Burr. 

Intrinsic,  because  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  my  ani 
madversions  on  the  political  principles,  character,  and 
views  of  Colonel  Burr,  have  been  extremely  severe ; 
and  on  different  occasions,  I,  in  common  with  many 
others  have  made  very  unfavourable  criticisms  on  par 
ticular  instances  of  the  private  conduct  of  this  gen 
tleman. 

In  proportion  as  these  expressions  were  entertained 
with  sincerity,  and  uttered  with  motives,  and  for  purpo 
ses  which  might  appear  to  me  commendable,  would  be 
the  difficulty,  (until  they  could  be  removed  by  evidence 
of  their  being  erroneous,)  of  explanation  or  apology. 
The  disavowal  required  of  me  by  Col.  Burr,  in  a  gener 
al  and  indefinite  form,  was  out  of  my  power,  if  it  had 
really  been  proper  for  me  to  submit  to  be  so  questioned; 


ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  159 

but  I  was  sincerely  of  opinion  that  this  could  not  be, 
and  in  this  opinion  I  was  confirmed  by  that  of  a  very 
moderate  and  judicious  friend  whom  I  consulted.  Be 
sides  that,  Col.  Burr  appeared  to  me  to  assume,  in  the 
first  instance,  a  tone  unnecessarily  peremptory  and  men 
acing,  and  in  the  second,  positively  offensive.  Yet  I 
wished,  as  far  as  might  be  practicable,  to  leave  a  dt>or 
open  to  accommodation.  This,  I  think,  will  be  inferred 
from  the  written  communications  made  by  me  and  by 
my  direction,  and  would  be  ocnfirmed  by  the  conversa 
tions  between  Mr.  Van  Ness  and  myself,  which  arose  out 
of  the  subject. 

I  am  not  sure  whether,  under  all  the  circumstances, 
I  did  not  go  further  in  the  attempt  to  accommodate,  than 
a  punctilious  delicacy  will  justify.  If  so,  I  hope  the  mo 
tives  I  have  stated  will  excuse  me. 

It  is  not  my  design,  by  what  I  have  said,  to  affix  any 
odium  on  the  conduct  of  Col.  Burr,  in  this  case.  He 
doubtless  has  heard  of  animadversions  of  mine  which 
bore  very  hard  upon  him ;  and  it  is  probable  that  as  usu 
al  they  were  accompanied  with  some  falsehoods.  He 
may  have  supposed  himself  under  a  necessity  of  acting 
as  he  has  done.  I  hope  the  grounds  of  his  proceeding 
have  been  such  as  ought  to  satisfy  his  'own  conscience. 

I  trust  at  the  same  time,  that  the  world  will  do  me 
the  justice  to  believe  that  I  have  not  censured  him  on 
light  grounds,  nor  from  unworthy  inducements.  I  certain 
ly  have  had  strong  reasons  for  what  I  have  said,  though 
it  is  possible  that,  in  some  particulars,  I  may  have 
been  influenced  by  misconstruction  or  misinformation. 
It  is  also  my  ardent  wish  that  I  may  have  been  more 
mistaken  than  I  think  I  have  been,  and  that  he,  by  his 
future  conduct,  may  show  himself  worthy  of  all  confi 
dence  and  esteem,  and  prove  an  ornament  and  blessing 
to  the  country. 

As  well  because  it  is  possible  that  I  may  have  inju 
red  Col.  Burr,  however  convinced  myself  that  my  opin 
ions  and  declarations  have  been  well  founded,  as  from 
my  general  principles  and  temper  in  relation  to  similar 
affairs,  I  have  resolved,  if  our  interview  is  conducted  in 
the  usual  manner,  and  it  pleases  God  to  give  me  the 


160  ISAAC  HAYNE. 

opportunity,  to  reserve  and  throw  away  my  first  fire,  and  1 
have  thoughts  even  of  reserving  my  second  fire— and  thus 
giving  a  double  opportunity  to  Colonel  Burr,  to  pause  and 
to  reflect. 

It  is  not,  however,  my  intention  to  enter  into  any  ex 
planation  on  the  ground — apology  from  principle,  I  hope, 
rather  than  pride,  is  out  of  the  question. 

To  those  who,  with  me,  abhorring  the  practice  of  du 
elling,  may  think  that  I  ought  on  no  account  to  have 
added  to  the  number  of  bad  examples,  I  answer,  that 
my  relative  situation,  as  well  in  public  as  private,  en 
forcing  all  the  considerations  which  constitute  what 
men  of  the  world  denominate  honour,  imposed  on  me 
(as  I  thought)  a  peculiar  necessity  not  to  decline  the 
call.  The  ability  to  be  in  future  useful,  whether  in  re 
sisting  mischief  or  effecting  good,  in  those  crisis  of  our 
public  affairs  which  seem  likely  to  happen,  would  prob 
ably  be  inseparable  from  a  conformity  with  public  prej 
udice  in  this  particular."*  A.  H. 


ISAAC  HAYNE, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

b4  THIS  gentleman  had  been  a  distinguished  and  very 
active  officer  in  the  American  service,  previous  to  the 
subjugation  of  Charleston.  When  this  event  took  place, 
he  found  himself  called  to  a  separation  from  his  family, 
a  dereliction  of  his  property,  and  submission  to  the 
conqueror.  In  this  situation  he  thought  it  his  duty  to 
become  a  voluntary  prisoner,  and  take  his  parole.  On 
surrendering  himself,  he  offered  to  engage  and  stand 
bound  on  the  principles  of  honour,  to  do  nothing  preju 
dicial  to  the  British  interest  until  he  was  exchanged; 
but  his  abilities  and  his  services  were  of  such  consider 
ation  to  his  country,  that  he  was  refused  a  parole,  and 
told  he  must  become  a  British  subject,  or  submit  to  close 
confinement. 

"His  family  was  then  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country, 
and  in  great  distress  by  sickness,  and  from  the  ravages 

*Vi<l<»  Facts  and  Docnmon(<!  rHntivr  <<•  Hon.  Hamilton. 


ISAAC  HAYNE.  16 1 

iof  the  royalists  in  their  neighbourhood.  Thus  he  seemed 
impelled  toacknowlenge  himself  the  subject  of  a  govern 
ment  he  had  relinquished  from  the  purest  principles,  or 
renounce  his  tenderest  connexions,  and  leave  them  with 
out  a  possibility  of  his  assistance,  and  at  the  moment 
when  he  hourly  expected  to  hear  of  the  death  of  an  af 
fectionate  wife,  ill  of  the  small  pox. 

In  this  state  of  anxiety,  he  subscribed  a  declaration 
of  his  allegiance  to  the  king  of  Great  Britain,  with  this 
express  exception,  that  he  should  never  be  required  to 
take  arms  against  his  country  Noth withstanding  this, 
he  was  soon  and  repeatedly  called  upon  to  arm  in  sup 
port  of  a  government  he  detested,  or  to  submit  to  the 
severest  punishment.  Brigadier  General  Patterson, 
commandant  of  the  garrison,  and  the  intendant  of  the 
Britsh  police,  a  Mr.  Simpson,  had  both  assured  Col. 
Fayne,  that  no  such  thing  would  be  required;  and  ad 
ded,  "that  when  the  royal  army  could  not  defend  a 
country  without  the  aid  of  its  inhabitants,  it  would  be 
time  to  quit  it."* 

Colonel  Hayne  considered  a  requisition  to  act  in 
British  service,  after  assurances  that  this  would  never 
be  required,  as  a  breach  of  contract,  and  a  release  in 
the  eye  of  conscience,  from  any  obligation  on  his  part. 
Accordingly  he  took  the  first  opportunity  of  resuming* 
his  arms  as  an  American,  assumed  the  command  of  his 
own  regiment;  and  all  fond  of  their  former  commander, 
Colonel  Hayne  marched  with  a  defensible  body  to  the 
relief  of  his  countrymen,  then  endeavouring  to  drive  the 
British  partizans,and  keep  them  within  the  environs  of 
Charleston.  He  very  unfortunately  in  a  short  time  fell 
into  the  hands  of  a  strong  British  party,  sent  out  for  the 
recovery  of  a  favourite  officer,t  who  had  left  the  Amer 
ican  cause,  and  became  a  devotee  to  the  British  gov 
ernment. 

As  soon  as  Colonel  Hayne  was  captured,  he  was 
closely  imprisoned.  Tliis  was  on  the  twenty-sixth  of 

*See  a  representation  of  Colonel  Hayne's  case,  laid  before  Congress 
after  his  death. 

fThis  was  General  Williamson,  captured  within  several  miles  of  the  ci- 
<v,  by  a  small  reconnoitorin^  party  sent  out  by  Col.  Hayne. 

w 


162  ISAAC   HAYNE. 

July.  He  was  notified  the  same  day,  that  a  court  oi 
officers  would  assemble  the  next  day,  to  determine  in 
wrhat  point  of  view  he  ought  to  be  considered.  On  the 
twenty-ninth  he  was  informed,  that  in  consequence  of  a 
court  of  inquiry  held  the  day  before,  Lord  llawdon  and 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Baltbur  had  resolved  upon  his  exe 
cution  within  two  days. 

His  astonishiment  at  these  summary  arid  illegal  pro 
ceedings  can  scarcely  be  conceived.  He  wrote  Lord 
Rawdon,  that  he  had  no  intimation  of  any  thing  more 
than  a  court  of  inquiry,  to  determine  whether  he  should 
be  considered  as  an  American  or  British  subject:  if  the 
first,  he  ought  to  be  set  at  liberty  on  parole;  if  the  last, 
he  claimed  a  legal  trial.  He  assured  his  lordship,  that 
on  a  trial  he  had  many  things  to  urge  in  his  defence; 
reasons  that  would  be  weighty  in  a  court  of  equity;  and 
concluded  his  letter  with  observing, — fctlf,  sir,  I  am  re 
fused  this  favour,  which  I  cannot  conceive  from  yo in 
justice  or  humanity,  I  earnestly  entreat  that  my  execu 
tion  may  be  deferred;  that  I  may  at  least  take  a  last 
farewell  of  my  children,  and  prepare  for  the  solemn 
change."1' 

But  his  death  predetermined,  his  enemies  were  deaf 
to  the  voice  of  compassion.  The  execution  of  his  sen 
tence  was  hastened,  though  the  reputation  and  merits  of 
this  gentleman  were  such,  that  the  whole  city  was 
zealous  for  his  preservation.  Not  only  the  inhabitants 
in  opposition  to  the  British  government,  but  even  Lieut. 
Governor  Bull  at  the  head  of  the  royalists,  interceded 
for  his  life.  The  principal  ladies  of  Charleston  endeav 
oured,  by  their  compassionate  interference,  to  arrest  or 
influence  the  relentless  hand  of  power.  They  drew  up 
and  presented  to  Lord  Rawdon,  a  delicate  and  pathetic 
petition  in  his  behalf.  His  near  relations,  and  his  chil 
dren,  had  just  performed  the  funeral  rites  over  the  grave 
of  a  tender  mother,  appeared  on  their  bended  knees,  to 
implore  the  life  of  their  father.  But  in  spite  of  the  sup 
plications  of  children  and  friends,  strangers  and  foes,  the 
flinty  heart  of  Lord  Rawdon  remained  untouched, amidst 

*Sce  a  more  full  account  of  the  treatment  of  Col.  Hayne  in  liis  own  pa 
pers,  afterward  presented  to  congress. 


WILLIAM    HEATH.  163 

these  scenes  of  sensibility  and  distress.  No  ameliora 
tion  of  the  sentence  could  be  obtained;  and  this  affec 
tionate  father  took  a  final  leave  of  his  children  in  the 
manner  that  pierced  the  souls  of  the  beholders.  To  the 
eldest  of  them,  a  youth  of  but  thirteen  years  of  age,  he 
delivered  a  transcript  of  his  case,  directed  him  to  con 
vey  it  to  Congress,  and  ordered  him  to  see  that  his  fath 
er's  remains  were  deposited  in  the  tomb  of  his  ances 
tors. 

Pinioned  like  a  criminal,  this  worthy  citizen  walked 
with  composure  through  the  crowds  of  admiring  spec 
tators,  with  the  dignity  of  the  philosopher,  and  the  in 
trepidity  of  the  Christian.  He  suffered  as  a  hero,  and 
was  hanged  as  a  felon,  amidst  the  tears  of  the  multi 
tude,  and  the  curses  of  thousands,  who  execrated  the 
perpetrators  of  this  cruel  deed* 


WILLIAM  HEATH, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  HEATH  descended  from  an  ancient  family, 
and  was  of  the  fifth  generation  of  the  family,  who  have 
inherited  the  same  real  estate  taken  up  in  a  state  of  na 
ture.  He  was  born  in  the  year  1737,  in  Roxbury  Mass. 
and  was  from  his  youth  a  cultivator  of  the  soil,  of  which 
profession  he  was  passionately  fond. 

From  his  childhood  he  was  remarkably  fond  of  mili 
tary  exercises,  which  passion  grew  up  with  him,  and  as 
he  arrived  at  years  of  maturity,  led  him  to  procure,  and 
attentively  study  every  military  treatise  in  the  English 
language,  which  he  could  procure. 

As  the  dispute  between  Great  Britain  and  her  Amer 
ican  colonies  assumed  a  serious  aspect,  Heath  did  not 
hesitate,  for  a  moment,  to  declare  his  sentiments  in  fa 
vour  of  the  rights  and  liberties  of  his  fellow-countrymen. 
So  early  as  the  year  1770,he  commenced  addresses  to  the 
public,  under  the  signature  of  "A  Military  Countryman" 
in  which  he  urged  the  importance  of  military  discipline, 
and  skill  in  the  use  of  arms,  as  the  only  means,  under 

*  Warren's  Revolution. 


164  WILLIAM    HEATH. 

heaven,  that  could  save  the  country,  and  he  assiduously 
applied  himself  in  organizing  and  disciplining  the 
companies  of  militia  and  minutemen. 

Being  ranked  among  the  patriots  and  advocates  for 
liberty,  he  was  commissioned  in  1775,  by  the  Provincial 
Congress  as  a  brigadier-general,  and  in  1776.  he  receiv 
ed  a  commission  from  Congress,  appointing  him  a  ma 
jor-general  in  the  army  of  the  United  States. 

Though  high  in  rank,  and  respectable  as  an  officer  of 
parade  and  discipline,  we  look  in  vain  for  laurels  acqui 
red  in  the  field.  Had  it  been  his  destiny,  however,  to 
encounter  the  perils  of  a  conflict  in  the  field  of  battle, 
no  one  can  say  how  valorously  he  would  have  acted  the 
hero. 

During  the  years  1777  and  1778,  he  was  the  com 
manding  officer  of  the  eastern  department,  with  his 
head-quarters  at  Boston.  Here  devolved  upon  him  the 
arduous  and  difficult  duties  of  superintendent  of  the 
convention  troops  captured  with  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga, 
and  now  quartered  at  Cambridge.  The  station  requi 
red  the  exercise  of  uncommon  firmness  and  decision  of 
character.  And  had  General  Heath  been  destitute  of 
these  characteristics,  he  would  have  been  subjected  to 
the  grossest  impositions  and  indignities,  from  the  haugh 
tiness  of  the  British  generals,  Burgoyne  and  Phillips, 
and  the  perverse  temper  of  their  soldiery.  He  who  had 
vauntingly  declared  in  the  British  Parliament,  that 
"with  five  thousand  men  he  would  make  elbow  room 
from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other,"  couid  ill 
support  himself  under  the  chagrin  and  mortification  of  a 
state  of  captivity.  His  lofty  spirit  frequently  broke 
forth,  but  General  Heath  soon  convinced  him  that  he 
was  neither  deficient  in  spirit,  nor  ignorant  of  his  duty, 
as  a  military  commander. 

The  follow!  g  circumstances  that  occurred  during  the 
stay  of  the  British  troops  at  Cambridge,  and  the  letters 
which  passed  between  the  officers,  at  once  show  the 
difficulties  which  arose  in  the  path  of  duty  prescribed 
to  General  Heath,  and  the  promptness  and  vigour  with 
which  he  met,  and  surmounted  them. 


WILLIAM    HEATH. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  British  general  at  Cam 
bridge,  they  made  an  insiduous  attempt  to  retain  the 
chief  command  over  their  own  troops.  In  a  conversa 
tion,  General  Phillips  turning  to  General  Heath,  observ 
ed,  "Sir,  yon  well  know  the  disposition  of  soldiers,  and 
that  they  will  more  or  less  in  all  armies  commit  some 
disorder;  suppose  you  should  delegate  to  General  Bur- 
goyne  the  power  of  seeing  your  orders  executed?" 

General  Heath  promptly  replied,  "  that  he  knew  the 
disposition  of  soldiers,  and  also  the  necessity  of  order 
and  discipline: that  he  was  not  only  willing,  but  expect 
ed  that  General  Burgoyne,  and  every  other  officer  would 
exert  themselves  to  keep  order.  But  as  to  the  exercise 
of  his  own  command,  and  enforcement  of  his  own  orders 
when  necessary,  that  was  a  jurisdiction  which  General 
Burgoyne  must  not  expect  to  exercise  while  here." 

For  two  weeks  after  his  arrival  in  Boston,  General 
Burgoyne  had  neglected  upon  trifling  excuses,  to  sign 
his  parole  in  the  manner  specified  in  the  articles  of  ca 
pitulation.  Finding  him  thus  disposed  to  evade,  Gen, 
Heath  addressed  him  the  following  letter. 

HEAD-QUARTERS,  BOSTON,) 
Nov.  23, 1777.     J 

"SiR, — Two  weeks  have  now  elapsed  since  I  had  ful 
ly  expected  that  the  officers  would  have  signed  their 
paroles.  They  have,  during  this  time,  been  enjoying  in 
a  great  measure  the  liberty  of  the  limits  intended  to  be 
assigned  to  them,  without  pledging  their  honour  by  pa 
role;  which  is  not  only  contrary  to  the  established  cus 
tom  of  nations,  but  contrary  to  the  eleventh  article  of 
the  Convention.  I  must,  therefore,  in  the  most  explicit 
terms,  insist  that  the  officers  who  wish  and  expect  to  be 
permitted  on  parole,  agreeably  to  the  Convention,  do 
sign  it  to-morrow.  This  is  so  reasonable,  that  I  expect 
there  will  be  no  further  hesitancy;  and  I  still  assure 
your  Excellency,  that  no  endeavours  of  mine  shall  be 
wanting  to  fulfil  the  Convention,  and  to  treat  the  officers 
with  politeness  and  generosity. 

i  am.  &c. 

(Signed)  WM.  HEATH, 

To  Lieut.  Gen.  BURGOYNE." 


166  WILLIAM  HEATH. 

November  8th,  1777,  Congress  directed  Gen.  Heath 
"to  cause  to  be  taken  down  the  name  and  rank  of  every 
commissioned  officer,  and  the  name,  size,  age,  and  des 
cription  of  every  non-commissioned  officer  and  private, 
and  all  other  persons  comprised  in  the  convention  made 
between  Lieutenant  General  Burgoyne  and  Major  Gen. 
Gates,  on  the  16th  October,  1777,  and  transmit  an  au 
thentic  copy  thereof  to  the  board  of  war,  in  order  that 
if  any  officer  or  soldier,  or  other  person  as  above  men 
tioned,  of  the  said  army,  shall  hereafter  be  found  in 
arms  against  these  states,  during  the  present  contest,  he 
may  be  convicted  of  the  offence,  and  suffer  the  punish 
ment  in  such  case  inflicted  by  the  law  of  nations." 

"Upon  the  foregoing  being  communicated  to  General 
Burgoyne,  and  he  called  upon  to  have  the  said  descrip 
tive  lists  made  out  accordingly,  he  wrote  our  general 
the  following  letter: — 

CAMBRIDGE,  Nov.  20,  1777. 

"SiR — I  have  received  a  paper,  dated  Head-Quar 
ters,  Boston,  Nov.  20th,  purporting  to  be  founded  upon 
express  orders  from  the  Honourable  Continental  Con 
gress,  which  paper  I  return  as  inadmissible,  because  ex 
tending  to  matters  in  which  the  Congress  have  no  right 
of  interference. 

"A  list  of  the  names  and  rank  of  every  commissioned 
officer,  and  the  numbers  of  the  non-commissioned  offi 
cers  and  soldiers,  may  be  necessary  to  you,  Sir,  for  the 
purpose  of  fulfilling  the  Convention,  in  quartering  offi 
cers,  and  the  regular  delivery  of  provisions,  fuel,  &c. 
Such  lists  shall  be  prepared  at  your  request;  but  before 
any  other  lists  can  be  granted,  I  must  be  assured  of  the 
purposes  for  which  they  are  intended,  and  the  word 
on/cr  must  neither  be  mentioned  nor  implied. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  &c. 

(Signed)  J.  BURGOYNE, 

Lieut.  General  to 
Major  Gen.  HEATH. 

To  the  foregoing,  our  general  wrote  an  answer  as 
follows: 


WILLIAM    HEATH.  1  67 

HEAD-QUARTERS,  BOSTON,  Nov.  21,  1777. 

"SiR — Your's  of  yesterday  is  before  me:  and  although 
you  might  at  first  imagine  that  the  Honourable  Conti 
nental  Congress  have  no  right  of  interference  in  matters 
of  the  Convention,  yet  I  conclude,  upon  further  reflection 
you  must  be  convinced,  that  as  that  body  aie  the  Rep 
resentatives  of  that  people  who  are  to  reap  the  advan 
tages  or  disadvantages  of  the  Conventon,  and  as  all 
continental  officers  are  acting  by  virtue  of  their  author 
ity,  and  under  their  direction,  they  assuredly  have  a 
right  of  interference,  and  to  give  such  orders  to  their 
officers  as  they  may  think  proper,  for  the  full  comple 
tion  of  the  Convention,  and  for  the  safety  and  good  of 
the  people. 

lil  must  therefore  insist  that  you  furnish  me  with 
proper  lists  of  names,  and  descriptions,  for  the  purpose 
before  mentioned  as  soon  as  may  be. 

"I  shall  at  all  times  endeavour  to  found  my  orders  on 
the  principles  of  honour,  reason,  and  justice,  and  not  to 
infringe  those  delicate  principles  in  others;  but  my  or 
ders  for  the  purposes  of  order  and  regularity,  must  be 
obeyed  by  every  man  and  all  bodies  of  men  placed  un 
der  my  direction;  and  fully  determined  I  am,  that  offen 
ders  shall  not  pass  with  impunity.  I  am,  &c. 

(Signed)  W.  HEATH. 

Lieut.  Gen.  BURGOYNE. 

Gen.  Burgoyne  had  received  intimations  that  a  fleet 
of  transports  were  about  to  come  round  for  the  troops, 
and  that  the  Juno  frigate  was  to  wear  a  flag  for  his  par 
ticular  accommodation.  This  he  mentioned  to  General 
Heath,  and  wished  to  know  if  the  frigate  might  come  up 
into  the  harbour.  General  Heath  had  no  apprehen 
sions  of  any  danger  from  a  frigate  entering  the  harbour, 
but  apprehended  that  some  people  might  think  that  he 
was  not  sufficiently  vigilant,  in  case  he  allowed  it.  He 
therefore  told  General  Burgoyne  that  the  frigate  could 
not  come  up  into  the  harbour,  and  hinted  to  him  the  ta 
king  one  of  the  most  convenient  transports  in  the  fleet  for 
tho  purpose ;  and  he  might  do  as  he  pleased  when  he  got 
off.  This  touched  Gen.  Burgoye  exceedingly,  who  wrote 


168  WILLIAM    HEATH. 

a  letter  to  General  Heath,  in  which  was  the  following 
paragraph, 

"As  to  your  allotment  of  a  "convenient  transport"  for 
my  passage,  if  it  was  from  yourself,  I  am  to  thank  you, 
Sir,  for  a  sort  of  insult  which  the  most  haughty  man  of 
office  would  be  ashamed  of,  in  any  other  country.  How 
ever,  as  I  am  determined  every  transaction  concerning 
this  convention  shall  be  notorious, and  beyond  the  powers 
of  subterfuge  to  explain  away,  I  have  directed  the 
frigate  together  with  the  transports  to  come  round,  and 
it  will  then  be  for  you,  Sir,  to  prohibit  the  entry  of  Bos 
ton  harbour,  to  any  ships  bearing  a  flag  of  truce,  and 
declaring  they  are  sent  for  the  express  purpose  of  con 
veying  to  Great  Britain  any  part  of  the  troops  of  the 
Convention. 

(Signed)  J.  BURGOYNE. 

To  which  Gen.  Heath  wrote  the  following  answer: 

HEAD-QUARTERS,  BOSTON,I 
January  .0,  1778. 

"SiR — Your  Excellency's  favour  of  yesterday  came 
duly  to  hand ;  and  I  must  confess  I  was  not  a  little  sur 
prised  at  some  expressions  in  it. 

"As  by  the  Convention,  transports  only  are  stipulated 
to  receive  the  troops,  I  submit  to  you,  Sir,  whether  a  hint 
[if  you  were  even  sure  that  it  came  from  myself]  that 
you  should  take  a  convenient  one,  rather  than  introduce 
a  frigate,  which  is  neither  expressed  or  implied  in  the 
Convention,  merits  those  epithets  which  you  are  pleased 
to  bestow  on  me. 

"I  have  ever  aimed  to  treat  you  with  politeness;  and 
the  plighted  faith  and  honour  of  my  country  require  me 
to  pay  strict  attention  to  the  Convention  on  their  part; 
of  course,  when  transports  arrive  to  receive  the  troops, 
they  will  enter  the  harbour;  and  if  you  can  find  by  the 
Convention  that  a  frigate  is  to  enter  for  the  particular 
reception  of  yourself,  she  will  not  be  prohibited.  But  if 
it  is  rather  uncommon  for  ships  of  war,  to  bear  flags  of 
truce,  and  if  consenting  to  it  in  the  present  case,  should 
Appear  to  be  rather  an  act  of  politeness  and  generosity 


WILLIAM    HEATH. 

than  otherwise,  I  leave  you  to  your  own  reflections 
whether  you  have  made  choice  of  the  most  happy  ex 
pressions  to  obtain  it. 

(Signed)  W.  HEATH. 

Lieut.  Gen.  BURGOYNE. 

Another  serious  matter  took  place  about  this  time; 
Colonel  Henley,  who  had  the  immediate  command  at 
Cambridge,  a  brave  and  good  officer,  but  warm  and 
quick  in  his  natural  temper,  having  ordered  some  pris 
oners  who  were  under  guard  turned  out,  that  he  might 
examine  them,  one  of  them  treated  him  with  much  in 
solence;  upon  which  he  pricked  him  with  a  sword,  or 
bayonet.  General  Burgoyne  immediately  presented  a 
complaint  against  Colonel  Henley,  charging  him  witli 
barbarous  and  wanton  conduct,  and  intentional  murder, 
as  appears  in  the  following  letter. 

CAMBRIDGE,  Jan.  9/A,  1778. 

"gIR — A  report  has  been  made  to  me  of  a  disturbance 
that  happened  at  the  barracks  on  Wednesday  after 
noon,  for  which  I  am  much  concerned  ;  and  though  thr 
provocations  from  your  people,  which  originally  occa 
sioned  it,  were  of  the  most  atrocious  nature,  I  was 
willing  the  offender  on  our  part  should  be  properly  pun 
ished.  But  Colonel  Henley,  not  content  with  that. 
made  prisoners  of  eighteen  innocent  men,  and  sent  them 
onboard  a  guard-ship,  as  alleged  by  your  order.  It  is 
not  only  a  duty  to  my  situation  to  demand  the  imme 
diate  discharge  of  these  men,  together  with  a  satisfac 
tory  apology;  but  I  also  mean  it  as  an  attention  to  yon. 
Sir,  that  I  give  you  an  immediate  opportunity  to  disavow 
so  unjustifiable  a  proceeding,  as  committing  men  to  the 
worst  of  prisons  upon  vague  report,  caprice  and  passion. 

I  am,  &c. 

(Signed)  J.  BURGOYNE." 

To  which  our  general  returned  the  following  answer: 

X 


ITU  WILLIAM    HEATH. 

HEAD-QURATERS,  BOSTON,  Jan.  14/A,  1778. 

"SiR — Your's  of  yesterday's  date,  1  received  the  last 
evening.  What  provocations  you  allude  to,  as  having 
been  offered  by  my  troops,  1  am  at  a  loss  to  deter 
mine.  The  insults  and  abuses  which  they  have  receiv 
ed,  I  will  venture  to  say,  unless  I  have  been  most  grossly 
misinformed,  are  unparalleled;  and  whether  you  are 
willing  or  unwilling,  Sir,  offenders  shall  no  longer  pass 
with  impunity, 

"If  it  can  be  made  to  appear,  that  any  of  those  sol 
diers  sent  to  the  guard-ship  by  my  orders,  are  innocent, 
they  shall  be  released  from  their  confinement;  but  with 
respect  to  such  as  have  been  guilty  of  violating  my 
standing  orders  of  the  garrison,  instead  of  disavowing 
or  making  any  apology  for  the  confinement  of  such,  be 
assured  that  I  do  most  explicitly  avow  it.  And  as  I 
have  before  observed  to  your  Excellency  in  a  former 
letter,  of  which  you  may  be  assured,  I  shall  at  all  times 
endeavour  to  found  my  orders  on  the  principles  of  hon 
our,  reason  and  justice,  and  not  to  infringe  those  delicate 
principles  in  others;  so  also  be  assured.Sir,  that  such 
my  orders  shall  be  obeyed  by  every  officer  and  soldier 
placed  under  my  direction;  and  such  as  have  the  hardi 
ness  to  transgress  them,  shall  abide  the  consequences. 

(Signed)  I  am,  &c.  W.  HEATH." 

June  7th,  1778,  a  British  officer  was  shot  by  an  A- 
merican  centinel,  the  officer  attempting  to  pass,  contrary 
to  the  standing  orders.  The  sentinel  was  immediately 
relieved  and  put  under  guard  to  await  a  legal  trial. 
Upon  receiving  an  official  account,  General  Heath  im 
mediately  informed  Major-General  Phillips,  who  was 
now  the  senior  British  officer,  Burgoync  having  sailed 
for  England,  of  the  circumstance,  and  of  his  determina 
tion  to  give  the  offender  ia  fair  trial. 

A  few  minutes  after  General  Heath  had  sent  his  let 
ter,  he  received  the  following  from  Gen.  Phillips: — 


"Cambridge,  June  17,  1778. 
"Murder  and  deatli   has  at  length  taken  place.     An 
officer,  riding  out   from    the  barracks  on   Prospect  Hill. 


WILLIAM    HEATH.  171 

has  been  shot  by  an  American  sentinel.  I  leave  the 
horrors  incident  to  that  bloody  disposition,  which  has 
joined  itself  to  rebellion  in  these  colonies,  to  the  feelings 
of  all  Europe.  I  do  not  ask  for  justice,  for  I  believe 
every  principle  of  it  is  fled  from  this  province. 

"I  demand  liberty  to  send  an  officer  to  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  by  way  of  the  head  quarters  of  Gen.  Washing 
ton,  with  my  report  of  this  murder. 

(Signed)  W.  PHILLIPS,  M.  G. 

*;Maj.  GEN.  HEATH." 

The  next  morning  our  general  wrote  the  following  to 
Gen. Phillips: — 

"HEAD-QUARTERS,  BOSTON,) 
June  18,  1778.     £ 

"  SIR — Were  it  even  certain  that  the  shooting  of  the 
officer  was  an  act  of  the  most  deliberate  and  wilful 
murder,  why  should  you  charge  these  free  independent 
states  with  a  bloody  disposition  and  with  rebellion,  and 
this  state  in  particular  as  void  of  every  principle  of 
justice?  Although  I  ever  had,  and  still  have,  a  per 
sonal  regard  for  you,  and  wish  in  every  respect  to  treat 
you  with  the  utmost  generosity;  yet  that  duty  which  I 
owe  to  the  honour  and  dignity  of  the  United  States,  will 
not  allow  me  to  pass  unnoticed  such  expressions  as  are 
contained  in  your  letter:  and  I  cannot  put  any  other 
interpretation  upon  them,  than  that  they  are  a  violent 
infraction  of  your  parole,  most  sacredly  given.  I  do 
conceive  it  to  be  my  duty,  and  I  do  hereby  restrict  you 
to  the  limits  of  your  house,  gardens,  and  yard,  and  to  the 
direct  road  from  your  quarters  to  the  quarters  of  the 
troops  of  the  Convention,  on  Prospect  and  Winter  Hills; 
expecting  from  you  a  parole,  for  propriety  of  conduct 
within  those  limits ;  which,  if  you  refuse,  I  shall  be  under 
the  necessity  of  ordering  you  to  narrower  limits,  until  I 
can  obtain  the  pleasure  of  the  honourable  the  congress, 
touching  this  matter,  to  whom  I  shall  transmit  your  let 
ter,  and  crave  their  directions. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant. 
(Signed)  W.  H  RATH,  Maj.  Gen. 


172  WILLIAM    IIKATH. 

UHEAD-Q,UAttTERS,  BOSTON,) 

June  18,1778.     J 

"SiR — You  will  immediately  repair  to  Cambridge,  and 
wait  upon  Maj.  Gen.  Phillips;  present  him  the  letter, 
addressed  to  him.  After  he  has  read  the  letter,  present 
the  parole;  if  he  signs  it,  well ;  if  he  refuses,  you  will 
please  to  inform  him,  that  in  consequence  of  the  inde 
cent,  dishonourable,  and  highly  insulting  expressions  in 
his  letter  of  yesterday,  against  the  honour  and  dignity 
of  the  free,  sovereign,  and  independent  states  of  Amer 
ica,  and  in  prejudice  of  the  measures  and  proceedings  of 
the  honourable  the  congress — as  it  is  my  duty,  so  it  is 
my  express  orders,  that  he,  the  said  Major  General  Phil 
lips,  be  restricted  to  the  limits  of  his  house,  yards  and 
gardens,  beyond  which  he  is  not  to  pass,  until  it  be  oth 
erwise  ordered;  and  that  you  immediately  plant  and 
continue  by  relief  so  many  Gentries,  as  may  be  necessary 
to  prevent  his  exceeding  those  limits.  You  will  give 
orders  that  the  Gentries,  so  planted,  observe  a  strict  de 
corum  and  soldier  like  behaviour,  avoiding  insult,  and 
behaving  with  becoming  dignity.  After  which  you  will 
wait  on  the  next  senior  officer,  and  acquaint  him  of  Gen. 
Phillips  being  confined. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours.  &c. 

(Signed)  W.  HEATH,  Maj.  Gen. 

Lieut.  Col.  POLLARD,  D.  A.G. 

General  Phillips  continuing  to  exhibit  the  same  tem 
per,  or  it  rather  growing  upon  him,  he  was  continued  in 
his  arrest,  until  the  troops  of  the  convention  were  order 
ed  to  be  removed  to  Clmrlotteville,  in  Virginia,  when 
General  Heath  was  relieved  altogether  of  his  trouble 
some  guests. 

"In  June,  1779,  General  Heath  was  elected  by  con 
gress  a  commissioner  of  the  Board  of  War,  with  a  sala- 
rv  of  four  thousand  dollars  per  annum,  and  allowed  to 
retain  his  rank  in  the  army,  which  he  declined,  prefer 
ring  to  participate  in  active  operations  in  the  field. 

In  the  summer  of  1780,  he  was  directed,  by  the  com 
mander  in  chief,  to  repair  to  Rhode-Island,  to  make  ar 
rangements  (or  the  reception  of  the  French  fleet  and 


JOHX    EAGAR    HOWARD.  173 

army,  which  were  expected  soon  to  arrive.  In  his  in 
terview  with  the  Count  Rochambeau,  and  other  officers 
of  the  French  army  and  navy,  he  proffered  his  friendly 
civilities,  and  contributed  all  in  his  power  to  their  com 
fortable  accommodation,  which  was  productive  of  a 
mutual  and  lasting  friendship  between  them.  Indefati 
gable  attention  to  duty,  in  the  various  stations  assigned 
him,  was  a  prominent  trait  in  his  character.  In  May, 
1781,  General  Heath  was  directed,  by  the  commander 
in  chief,  to  repair  to  the  New-England  states,  to  repre 
sent  to  their  respective  executives  the  distressing  condi 
tion  of  our  army,  and  to  solicit  a  speedy  supply  of  pro 
visions  and  clothing,  in  which  he  was  successful.  As 
senior  major-general,  he  was  more  than  once  commander 
of  the  right  wing  of  our  army,  and  during  the  absence 
of  the  commander  in  chief,  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,he 
was  entrusted  with  the  command  of  the  main  army, 
posted  at  the  Highlands  and  vicinity,  to  guard  the  impor 
tant  works  on  the  Hudson.  On  the  24th  of  June,  1784, 
hostilities  having  ceased  between  the  two  armies,  Gen. 
Washington  addressed  a  letter  to  General  Heath,  ex 
pressing  his  thanks  for  his  meritorious  services,  and  his 
great  affection  and  esteem,  and  on  the  same  day  they 
took  their  final  leave. 

Such  was  General  Heath^s  public  life.  His  private 
one  was  retired  and  domestic,  amiable,  orderly  and 
industrious,  but  not  remarkable  for  hospitality,  or  a 
liberal  appropriation  of  property  to  public  purposes. 
He  died  at  Roxbury,  January  24, 1814,  aged  77  years."* 


JOHN  EAGAR  HOWARD, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

FOR  gallantry  and  firmness,  decision  of  character  and 
sound  judgment,  Colonel  Howard  was  not  exceeded  by 
any  officer,  of  his  rank,  in  the  service  of  his  country. 
With  great  intelligence,  and  skill  in  arms,  he  was  one  of 
those  heroic  spirits,  on  whom  General  Greene  reposed 
his  hopes,  during  the  time  he  was  Deepest  in  adversity. 

*Thacher's  Military  Journal. 


174  JOHN    EAGAR    HOWARD. 

and  iu  his  high  determination,  to  recover  the  south;  01 
perish  in  the  attempt. 

He  was  born  June  4th,  1752,  near  the  city  of  Balti 
more.  His  paternal  ancestors  were  from  England,  his 
maternal  from  Ireland. 

Burning  with  the  generous  enthusiasm  of  the  time, 
Howard  was  among  the  first,  to  enrol  himself  under  the 
standard  of  American  liberty.  He  was  first  in  commis 
sion  as  a  captain,  and  afterward  as  major,  but  he  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  much  in  action,  until  he  took 
his  station,  at  the  head  of  a  regiment,  in  the  southern 
army. 

"Accomplished  in  tactics,  and  ripe  in  experience,  al 
though  only  now  in  his  twenty-seventh  year,  he  was,  in 
all  respects,  fitted  for  the  operations  of  the  field. 

Accordingly,  no  sooner  did  an  opportunity  for  action 
present  itself,  than  his  valour  as  a  soldier,  and  his  rep 
utation  as  a  commander,  became  conspicuous  in  the 
midst  of  the  accomplished  and  the  brave. 

His  brightest  laurel  was  gathered  at  the  Cowpens, 
where,  assuming  to  himself  the  responsibility  of  the  act, 
he  charged,  without  orders,  and,  at  the  point  of  the  bay 
onet,  a  party  of  the  enemy,  superior  in  number  to  his 
own  command,  and  consisting  of  the  flower  of  the  Brit 
ish  army.'** 

After  having  thrown  the  British  line  into  confusion,  by 
his  fire  und  unexpected  charge,  he  called  out  to  them  in 
a  loud  and  commanding  voice,  to  surrender,  and  they 
should  receive  ugood  quarters." 

On  this  summons  five  hundred  of  them  instantly  threw 
down  thir  arms. 

"His  interview, .immediately  after  the  action,  with 
General  Morgan,  the  commanding  officer,  was  eminent 
ly  interesting;  and,  were  other  evidence  wanting,  shows 
on  how  precarious  a  footing,  stands  the  reputation  and 
the  life  of  a  warrior. 

"My  dear  Howard,''  said  Morgan,  cordially  pressing 
his  hand  as  he  spoke,  "you  have  given  me  victory,  and 
I  love  and  honour  you;  but,  had  you  failed  in  your 

*L\fe  of  Greene. 


JOHN    EAGAR    HOWARD.  175 

charge,  which  you  risked  without  orders,  I  would  have 
shot  you." 

Previously  to  this,  Colonel  Howard  had  distinguished 
himself  among  those,  who,  by  their  gallantry  and  good 
conduct,  has  sustained  the  character  of  the  American 
arms,  and  prevented  the  utter  destruction  of  the  forces, 
in  the  battle  near  Cambridge,  where  Gates  was  de 
feated. 

Nor  was  he  entitled  to  less  applause,  for  the  spirit  and 
judgment,  which  he  afterward  displayed,  at  Guilford, 
Hodkirk's  Hill,  and  the  Eutaw  Springs;  at  the  latter  of 
which,  he  was  severely  wounded. 

But  a  letter  from  General  Greene,  dated  November 
14th,  1781,  to  a  friend  in  Maryland,  is  conclusive,  as  to 
the  military  reputation  of  Col.  Howard. 

"This  will  be  handed  to  you,  (says  the  general)  by 
Colonel  Howard,  as  good  an  officer  as  the  world  af 
fords.  He  has  great  ability,  and  the  best  disposition,  to 
promote  the  service.  My  own  obligations  to  him  are 
great — the  public's  still  more  so.  He  deserves  a  statue 
of  gold,  no  less  than  the  Roman  and  Grecian  heroes. 
He  has  been  wounded,  but  has  happily  recovered,  and 
now  goes  home,  to  pay  a  little  attention  to  his  private 
affairs,  and  to  take  charge  of  the  fifth  Maryland  regi 
ment,  recruiting  in  your  state. 

With  great  respect,  and  esteem, 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours,  N.  GREENE. 

On  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  he  married  Miss  Chew, 
daughter  of  the  honourable  Benjamin  Chew,  of  Phila 
delphia. 

Contented  and  happy  in  domestic  life,  and  much  oc 
cupied  with  his  private  affairs,  he  has  never  sought  po 
litical  honours,  but  left  to  others  to  govern  the  country, 
which  he,  by  his  valour,  contributed  to  set  free. 

He  still  resides  on  his  patrimonial  estate,  surrounded 
by  a  large  and  respectable  family,  pre-eminent  in  afflu 
ence,  and  passing  the  evening  of  his  life  in  that  dignified 
and  felicitous  retirement,  which  a  high  and  unsullied 
reputation,  a  peaceful  conscience,  a  cultivated  intellect, 
and  polished  manners  alone  can  bestow.''*' 

*Life  of  Greene. 


176  PETER    HORRY. 

PETER  HORRY, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

"THIS  officer  was  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  many 
Protestant  families  who  removed  to  Carolina  from 
France,  after  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantz.  He 
early  took  up  arms  in  defence  of  his  country;  and 
through  all  the  trials  of  peril  and  privation,  experienced 
by  Marion's  brigade,  gave  ample  proof  of  his  strict  in 
tegrity  and  undaunted  courage.  The  fame  which  he 
acquired,  as  one  of  the  band  of  heroes  who  defended 
the  post  at  Sullivan's  Island,  was  never  tarnished.  For, 
although  in  a  moment  of  despondency  he  once  said  to 
his  general — "I  fear  our  happy  days  are  all  gone  by;'' 
it  was  not  the  consequences  that  might  accrue  to  him 
self,  but  the  miseries  apprehended  for  his  country,  that 
caused  the  exclamation;  for  never  were  his  principles 
shaken;  never,  even  for  a  moment,  did  the  thought  of 
submission  enter  his  bosom.  No  man  more  eagerly 
sought  the  foe;  none  braved  danger  with  greater  intre 
pidity,  or  more  strenuously  endeavoured  to  sustain  the 
military  reputation  of  his  country.  A  ludicrous  story  is 
told  of  him,  that,  though  probably  varied  in  the  narra 
tion,  has  its  foundation  in  truth.  Colonel  Horry  was 
once  ordered  to  wait  the  approach  of  a  British  detach 
ment  in  ambuscade;  a  service  which  he  performed  with 
such  skill,  that  he  had  them  completely  within  his  pow 
er;  when  from  a  dreadful  impediment  in  his  speech,  by 
which  he  was  afflicted,  he  could  not  articulate  the 
word  "Jire"  In  vain  he  made  the  attempt,  it  was,y?,^£, 
ft,fi, — but  he  could  get  no  further.  At  length  irritated 
almost  to  madness,  he  exclaimed — " Shoot ^  damn  you, 
shoot — you  know  very  well  what  I  would  say — shoot, 
shoot,  and  be  damn'd  to  you!"  Pie  was  present  in  every 
engagement  of  consequence,  and  on  all  occasions  in 
creased  his  reputation.  At  Quinby^Col.  Baxter,  a  gal 
lant  soldier,  possessed  of  great  coolness,  and  still  greater 
simplicity  of  character,  calling  out — "I  am  wounded 
Colonel1/'  Horry  replied — 'Think  no  more  of  it,  Baxter, 
but  stand  to  your  post/'  "But  I  can't  stand,  Colonel- 
lam  wounded  a  second  time!"  "Then  lie  down  Baxter. 


.tOHN  JAMES.  177 

but  quit  not  your  post."  "Colonel,  cried  the  (wounded 
man)  "they  have  shot  me  again,  and  if  I  remain  any 
longer  here,  I  shall  be  shot  to  pieces."  "Be  it  so,  Bax 
ter,  but  stir  not."  He  obeyed  the  order,  and  actually 
received  a  fourth  wound  before  the  engagement  ended." 


JOHN  JAMES, 

Major  in  the  American  Army, 

"WAS  born  in  Ireland,  in  1732,  and  was  the  son  of  an 
officer  who  had  served  King  William  in  his  wars  in  Ire* 
land  against  King  James.  This  circumstance  was  the 
origin  of  the  name  of  Williamsburg,  which  is  now  at 
tached  to  one  of  the  districts  of  Carolina.  The  elder 
James,  with  his  family,  and  several  of  his  neighbours, 
migrated  to  this  district  in  1733,  made  the  first  settle 
ment  there,  and  in  honour  of  King  William  gave  his 
name  to  a  village  laid  out  on  the  east  bank  of  Black 
River.  The  village  is.  now  called  King's  Tree,  from  a 
white  or  short-leafed  pine,  which  in  old  royal  grants  was 
reserved  for  the  use  of  the  king;  and  the  name  of  Will 
iamsburg  has  been  transferred  to  the  district.  To  it 
Major  James,  when  an  infant,  was  brought  by  his  pa 
rents.  His  first  recollections  were  those  of  a  stockade 
fort,  and  of  war  between  the  new  settlers  and  the  na 
tives.  The  former  were  often  reduced  to  great  straits 
in  procuring  the  necessaries  of  life  and  in  defending 
themselves  against  the  Indians.  In  this  then  frontier 
settlement,  Major  James,  Mr.  James  Bradley,  and  other 
compatriots  in  the  revolution,  were  trained  up  to  defend 
and  love  their  countty.  Their  opportunities  for  acqui 
ring  liberal  education  were  slender,  but  for  obtaining  re 
ligious  instruction  were  very  ample.  They  were  brought 
up  under  the  eye  and  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  John 
Rae,  a  Presbyterian  minister  who  accompanied  his  con 
gregation  in  their  migration  from  Ireland  to' Carolina. 
When  the  revolution  commenced,  in  1775,  Major  James, 
had  acquired  a  considerable  portion  both  of  reputation 
and  property.  He  was  a  captain  of  militia  under 
George  the  Third.  Disapproving  of  the  measures  of  the 
British  government,  he  resigned  his  royal  commission. 

Y 


178  JOHN  JAMES. 

but  was  soon  after  reinstated  by  a  popular  vote.     In  the 
year   1776,  he  marched,  with  his  company,  to  the  de 
fence  of  Charleston.     In    the  year   1779,  lie    was  with 
Gen.  Moultrie  on  his   retreat  before  Gen.  Prevost,  and 
commanded  120  riflemen  in  the  skirmish  at  Tulifinny, 
When  Charleston  was  besieged,  in   1780,  Maj.  James 
inarched  to  its  defence,  but  Gov.  John  Rutledge  ordered 
him   back  to   embody   the  country    militia.    The    town 
having   fallen,  he  was  employed  by   his  countrymen  to 
wait  on   the  conquerors,  and  to  inquire  of  them  what 
terms  they  would  give.     On   finding  that   nothing  short 
of  an  unconditional  submission  and  resumption  of  the 
characters  and  duties  of  British   subjects,  would  be  ac 
cepted,  he  abruptly    broke  off  all  negotiation;  and,  re 
joining  his  friends,  formed  the  stamina  of  the  distinguish 
ed  corps  known  in  the  latter  periods  of  the  revolutionary 
war  by  the  name  of  Marion's  Brigade.     In  the  course  of 
this  cruel  and  desultory  warfare,  Major  James  was  redu 
ced  from  easy  circumstances  to  poverty.     All  his  move- 
able  property  was  carried  off,  and  every  house  on  his 
plantation  burnt;  but  he  bore  up  under  these  misfortunes, 
and  devoted,  not  only  all  his  possessions,  but  life  itself 
for  the  good   of  his   country.     After   Greene,   as  com 
mander  in  chief,  had  superseded  Marion,  Major  James 
continued   to  serve  under   the  former,  and  fought   with 
him  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw.     The  corps  with  which  he 
served  consisted  mostly  of  riflemen,  and  were  each  serv 
ed  with   24  rounds  of  cartridges.     M;my  of  them  ex 
pended  the  whole,  and   most  of  them   20  of  these    in 
firing  on  the  enemy.     As  they   were  in  the   habit  of  ta 
king  aim,  their  shot  seldom   failed  of  doing  execution. 
Shortly  after  this  action,  Major  James  and  Gen.  Marion 
were    both  elected    members  of  the    state  legislature. 
Before  the  general  had  rejoined  his  brigade,  it  was  unex 
pectedly  attacked,  and  after  retreating  was  pursued  by 
a  party    of  the  British  commanded  by  Col.  Thompson, 
now  Count   Rum  ford.      In   this  retreat,  Major  James 
being  mounted,  was   nearly  overtaken  by  two   British 
dragoons,  but   kept  them   from  cutting  him  down  by  a 
judicious  use  of  his  pistols,  and   escaped  by  leaping  a 
chasm  in  a  bridge  of  twenty  feet  width.     The  dragoons 


HENRY    KNOX,  179 

did  not  follow.  The  major  being  out  of  their  reach, 
rallied  his  men,  brought  them  back  to  the  charge,  and 
stopped  the  progress  of  the  enemy.  When  the  war  was 
nearly  over,  he  resigned  his  commission,  and,  like  an 
other  Cincinnatus,  returned  to  his  farm  and  devoted 
the  remainder  of  his  days  to  the  improvement  of  his 
property  and  the  education  of  his  children.  In  the  year 
1791  he  died,  with  the  composure  and  fortitude  of  a 
Christian  hero."* 


HEART  KNOX, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

FOR  the  biography  of  this  distinguished  soldier  of  the 
revolution,  and  also  for  that  of  General  Lincoln,  which 
follows,  we  are  indebted  to  the  highly  interesting  work 
of  James  Thacher,  M.  D.  entitled  "Military  Journal  du 
ring  the  American  Revolutionary  War,"  from  which  we 
have  extracted  them. 

"Among  those  of  our  countrymen,  who  most  zealous 
ly  engaged  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  few  sustained  a  rank 
more  deservedly  conspicuous,  than  Gen.  Knox.  He  was 
one  of  those  heroes,  of  whom  it  may  be  truly  said,  that 
he  lived  for  his  country. 

Born  in  Boston,  July,  1750,  his  childhood  and  youth 
were  employed  .n  obtaining  the  best  education,  that 
the  justly  celebrated  schools  of  his  native  town  afforded. 
In  very  early  life  he  opened  a  book  store,  for  the  en 
largement  of  which  he  soon  formed  an  extensive  cor 
respondence  in  Europe — but  little  time  elapsed  before, 
at  the  call  of  his  country,  he  relinquished  this  lucrative 
and  increasing  business.  Indebted  to  no  adventitious 
aid,  his  character  was  formed  by  himself;  the  native  and 
vigorous  principles  of  his  own  mind  made  him  what  he 
was.  Distinguished  among  his  associates,  from  the  first 
dawn  of  manhood,  for  a  decided  predilection  to  martial 
exercises,  he  was,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  selected  by 
the  young  men  of  Boston  as  one  of  the  officers  of  a  com 
pany  of  grenadiers— a  company  so  distinguished  for  its 

*Ramsay's  South  Carolina. 


180  HENRY  KNOX. 

martial  appearance,  and  the  precision  of  its  evolutionsr 
that  it  received  the  most  flattering  encomium,  from  a 
British  officer  of  high  distinction. 

This  early  scene  of  his  military  labours,  served  but  as 
a  school  for  that  distinguished  talent  which  afterward 
shone  with  lustre,  in  the  most  brilliant  campaigns  of  an 
eight  years  war;  through  the  whole  of  which,  he  di 
rected  the  artillery  with  consummate  skill  and  bravery. 

His  heart  was  deeply  engaged  in  the  cause  of  free 
dom  ;  he  felt  it  to  be  a  righteous  cause,  and  to  its  ac 
complishment  yielded  every  other  consideration.  When 
Britain  declared  hostilities,  he  hesitated  not  a  moment, 
what  course  he  should  pursue.  No  sordid  calculation 
of  interest  retarded  his  decision.  The  quiet  of  domes 
tic  life,  the  fair  prospect  of  increasing  wealth,  and  even 
the  endearing  claims  of  family  and  friends,  though  urged 
with  the  most  persuasive  eloquence,  had  no  power  to 
divert  the  determined  purpose  of  his  mind. 

In  the  early  stages  of  British  hostility,  though  not  in 
commission,  he  was  not  an  inactive  spectator.  At  the 
battle  of  Bunker-hill,  as  a  volunteer,  he  was  constantly 
exposed  to  danger,  in  reconnoitering  the  movements  of 
the  enemy,  and  his  ardent  mind  was  engaged  with  oth 
ers  in  preparing  those  measures  that  were  ultimately  to 
dislodge  the  British  troops,  from  their  boasted  posses 
sion  of  the  capital  of  New  England. 

Scarcely  had  we  began  to  feel  the  aggressions  of  the 
British  arms,  before  it  was  perceived,  that  without  ar 
tillery,  of  which  we  were  then  destitute,  the  most  impor 
tant  objects  of  the  war  could  not  be  accomplished. 
No  resource  presented  itself,  but  the  desperate  expedient 
of  procuring  it  from  the  Canadian  frontier.  To  attempt 
this,  in  the  agitated  state  of  the  country,  through  a  wide 
extent  of  wilderness,  was  an  enterprise  so  replete  with 
toil  and  danger,  that  it  was  hardly  expected  any  one 
would  be  found  hardy  enough  to  encounter  its  perils. 
Knox,  however,  saw  the  importance  of  the  object — he 
saw  his  country  bleeding  at  every  pore,  without  the 
power  of  repelling  her  invaders — he  saw  the  flou.'s  ling 
Capital  of  the  North  in  the  possession  of  an  e  jlting 
enemy,  that  we  were  destitute  of  the  means  essential 


HENRY    KNOX.  181 

to  their  annoyance,  and  formed  the  daring  and  gener 
ous  resolution  of  supplying  the  army  with  ordnance, 
however  formidable  the  obstacles  that  might  oppose 
him.  Young,  robust,  and  vigorous,  supported  by  an  un 
daunted  spirit,  and  a  mind  ever  fruitful  in  resources,  he 
commenced  his  mighty  undertaking,  almost  unattended, 
in  the  winter  of  177.1),  relying  solely  for  the  execution  of 
his  object,  on  such  aid  as  he  might  procuie  from  the 
thinly  scattered  inhabitants  of  the  dreary  region  through 
which  he  had  to  pass.  Every  obstacle  of  season,  roads 
and  climate  were  surmounted  by  determined  perseve 
rance; — and  a  few  weeks,  scarcely  sufficient  for  a  jour 
ney  so  remote,  saw  him  return  laden  with  ordnance  and 
the  stores  of  war — drawn  in  defiance  of  every  obstacle 
over  the  frozen  lakes  and  mountains  of  the  north.  Most 
acceptable  was  this  offering  to  our  defenceless  troops, 
and  most  welcome  to  the  commander  in  chief,  who  well 
knew  how  to  appreciate  a  service  so  important.  This 
expedition  stamped  the  character  of  him  who  performed 
it  for  deeds  of  enterprise  and  daring.  He  received  the 
most  flattering  testimony  of  approbation  from  the  com 
mander  in  chief  and  from  Congress,  and  was  in  conse 
quence  of  this  important  service  appointed  to  the  com 
mand  of  the  artillery,  of  which  he  had  thus  laid  the 
foundation, — in  which  command  he  continued  with 
increasing  reputation  through  the  revolutionary  war. 

Among  the  incidents  that  occurred  during  the  expedi 
tion  to  Canada,  was  his  accidental  meeting  with  the 
unfortunate  Andre,  whose  subsequent  fate  was  so  deep 
ly  deplored  by  every  man  of  feeling  in  both  nations.  His 
deportment  as  a  soldier  and  gentleman  so  far  interested 
General  Knox  in  his  favour,  that  he  often  afterward 
expressed  the  most  sincere  regret,  that  he  was  called 
by  duty,  to  act  on  the  tribunal  that  pronounced  his  con 
demnation. 

During  the  continuance  of  the  war,  the  corps  of  ar 
tillery  was  principally  employed  with  the  main  body  of 
th  army,  and  near  the  person  of  the  commander  in 
chief,  and  was  relied  on  as  an  essential  auxiliary  in  the 
most  important  battles. 


182  HENRY    KNOX. 

Trenton  and  Princeton  witnessed  his  enterprise  ana 
valour.  At  that  critical  period  of  our  affairs,  when 
hope  had  almost  yielded  to  despair,  and  the  great  soul 
of  Washington,  trembled  for  his  country's  freedom, 
Knox  was  one  of  those  that  strengthened  his  hand,  and 
encouraged  his  heart.  At  that  awful  moment,  when 
the  tempest  raged  with  its  greatest  fury,  he  with  Greene 
and  other  heroes,  stood  as  pillars  of  the  Temple  of  Lib 
erty,  till  the  fury  of  the  storm  was  past. 

The  letters  of  General  Knox,  still  extant,  written  in 
the  darkest  periods  of  the  revolution,  breathed  a  spirit 
of  devotedness  to  the  cause  in  which  he  had  embarked, 
and  a  firm  reliance  on  the  favour  of  Divine  Providence; 
from  a  perusal  of  these  letters  it  is  evident,  that  he  never 
yielded  to  despondency,  but  in  the  most  critical  moments 
of  the  war,  confidently  anticipated  its  triumphant  issue. 

In  the  bloody  fields  of  Germantown  and  Monmouth, 
without  derogating  from  the  merits  of  others,  it  may  be 
said,  that  during  the  whole  of  these  hard  fought  battles, 
no  officer  was  more  distinguished  for  the  discharge  of 
the  arduous  duties  of  his  command; — in  the  front  of  the 
battle,  he  was  seen  animating  his  soldiers  and  pointing 
the  thunder  of  their  cannon.  His  skill  and  bravery  were 
so  conspicuous  on  the  latter  occasion,  that  he  received 
the  particular  approbation  of  the  commander  in  chief, 
in  general  orders  issued  by  him  the  day  succeeding  that 
of  the  battle,  in  which  he  says,  that  "the  enemy  have 
done  them  the  justice  to  acknowledge,  that  no  artillery 
could  be  better  served  than  ours."  But  his  great  exer 
tions  on  that  occasion,  together  with  the  extreme  heat  of 
the  day,  produced  the  most  alarming  consequences  to 
his  health.  To  these  more  important  scenes,  his  servi 
ces  were  not  confined ;  with  a  zeal  devoted  to  our  cause, 
he  was  ever  at  the  post  of  danger — and  the  immortal 
hero,  who  stands  first  on  the  list  of  heroes  and  of  men, 
has  often  expressed  his  sense  of  these  services.  In  ev 
ery  field  of  battle,  where  Washington  fought,  Knox  was 
by  his  side.  The  confidence  of  the  commander  in 
chief  inspired  by  early  services,  was  thus  matured  by 
succeeding  events.  There  can  be  no  higher  testimony 
to  his  merits,  than  that  during  a  war  of  so  long  continu- 


HENRY    KNOX.  183 

ance,  passed  almost  constantly  in  the  presence  of 
Washington,  he  uniformly  retained  his  confidence  and 
esteem,  which  at  their  separation  had  ripened  into 
friendship  and  affection.  The  parting  interview  be 
tween  General  Knox  and  his  illustrious  and  beloved 
chief,  after  the  evacuation  of  New  York  by  the  British, 
and  Knox  had  taken  possession  of  it  at  the  head  of  a 
detachment  of  our  army,  was  inexpressibly  affecting. 
The  hour  of  their  separation  having  arrived,  Washing 
ton,  incapable  of  utterance,  grasped  his  hand  and  em 
braced  him  in  silence,  and  in  tears.  His  letters  to  the 
last  moment  of  his  life,  contained  the  most  flattering  ex 
pressions  of  his  unabated  friendship.  Honourable  to 
himself  as  had  been  the  career  of  his  revolutionary  ser 
vices,  new  laurels  were  reserved  for  him  at  the  siege  of 
Yorktown.  To  the  successful  result  of  this  memorable 
siege,  the  last  brilliant  act  of  our  revolutionary  contest, 
no  officer  contributed  more  essentially  than  the  com 
mander  of  the  artillery.  His  animated  exertions,  his 
military  skill,  his  cool  and  determined  bravery  in  this 
triumphant  struggle,  received  the  unanimous  approba 
tion  of  his  brethren  in  arms,  and  he  was  immediately 
created  major  general  by  Congress,  at  the  recommenda 
tion  of  the  commander  in  chief,  with  the  concurrence  of 
the  whole  army. 

The  capture  of  Lord  Cornwallis  closed  the  contest, 
and  with  it  his  military  life.  Having  contributed  so  es 
sentially  to  the  successful  termination  of  the  war,  he  was 
selected  as  one  of  the  commissioners  to  adjust  the  terms 
of  peace,  which  service  he  performed  in  conjunction 
with  his  colleagues,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  coun 
try.  He  was  deputed  to  receive  the  surrender  of  the 
city  of  New  York,  and  soon  after  appointed  to  the  com 
mand  of  West  Point.  It  was  here  that  he  was  employ 
ed  in  the  delicate  and  arduous  duty  of  disbanding  the 
army,  and  inducing  a  soldiery,  disposed  to  turbulence  by 
their  privations  and  sufferings,  to  retire  to  domestic  life, 
and  resume  the  peaceful  characters  of  citizens. 

It  is  a  fact  most  honourable  to  his  character,  that  by 
his  countenance  and  support,  he  rendered  the  most  essen 
tial  aid  to  Washington,  in  suppressing  that  spirit  of 


184  HENRY    KNOX. 

usurpation  which  had  been  industriously  fomented  by  ft 
few  unprincipled  and  aspiring  men,  whose  aim  was  the 
subjugation  of  the  country  to  a  military  government.  JNo 
hope  of  political  elevation— no  flattering  assurances  of 
aggrandizement  could  tempt  him  to  build  his  greatness 
on  the  ruin  of  his  country. 

The  great  objects  of  the  war  being  accomplished,  and 
peace  restored  to  our  country,  General  Knox  was  early, 
under  the  confederation,  appointed  secretary  of  war  by 
Congress,  in  which  office  he  wras  confirmed  by  President 
Washington,  after  the  establishment  of  the  Federal 
Government.  The  duties  of  this  office  were  ultimately 
increased,  by  having  those  of  the  navy  attached  to  them ; 
to  the  establishment  of  which  his  counsel  and  exertions 
eminently  contributed.  He  differed  in  opinion  from 
some  other  members  of  the  cabinet  on  this  most  interest 
ing  subject.*  One  of  the  greatest  men  whom  our  country 
has  produced,  has  uniformly  declared,  that  he  consider 
ed  America  much  indebted  to  his  efforts,  for  the  creation 
of  a  power  which  has  already  so  essentially  advanced 
her  respectability  and  fame. 

Having  filled  the  office  of  the  War  Department  for 
eleven  years,  he  obtained  the  reluctant  consent  of  Pres 
ident  Washington  to  retire,  that  he  might  give  his  atten 
tion  to  the  claims  of  a  numerous  and  increasing  family. 
This  retirement  was  in  concurrence  with  the  wishes  of 
Mrs.  Knox,  who  had  accompanied  him  through  the  try 
ing  vicissitudes  of  war,  shared  with  him  its  toils  and 
perils,  and  who  was  now  desirous  of  enjoying  the  less 
busy  scenes  of  domestic  life.  A  portion  of  the  large 
estates  of  her  ancestor,  General  Waldo,  had  descended 
to  her,  which  he  by  subsequent  purchase  increased  till  it 
comprised  the  whole  Waldo  Patent,  an  extent  of  thirty 
miles  square,  and  embracing  a  considerable  part  of  that 
-section  of  Maine,  which  now  constitutes  the  counties  of 
Lincoln,  Hancock,  and  Penobscot.  To  these  estates 
he  retired  from  all  concern  in  public  life,  honored  as  a 
vsoldier  and  beloved  as  a  man,  devoting  much  of  his  time 
to  their  settlement  and  improvement.  He  was  induced 

:  President  Adams. 


JflENRY    KNOX. 

repeatedly  to  take  a  share  in  the  government  of  the 
state,  both  in  the  house  of  representatives  and  in  tin? 
council,  in  the  discharge  of  whose  several  duties,  he 
employed  his  wisdom  and  experience  with  the  greatest 
assiduity. 

In  1798,  when  the  French  insults  and  injuries  towards 
this  country  called  for  resistance,  he  was  one  of  those 
selected  to  command  our  armies,  and  to  protect  our 
liberty  and  honour,  from  the  expected  hostilities  of  the 
French  Directory:  happily  for  our  country  their  services 
were  not  required. 

Retired  from  the  theatre  of  active  life,  he  still  felt  a 
deep  interest  in  the  prosperity  of  his  country.  To  that 
portion  of  it,  which  he  had  chosen  for  his  residence,  his 
exertions  were  more  immediately  directed.  His  views, 
like  his  soul,  were  bold  and  magnificent;  his  ardent 
mind  could  not  want  the  ordinary  course  of  time  and 
events;  it  outstripped  the  progress  of  natural  improve 
ment.  Had  he  possessed,  a  cold,  calculating  mind,  he. 
might  have  left  behind  him  the  most  ample  wealth;  but 
he  would  not  have  been  more  highly  valued  by  his 
country,  or  more  beloved  by  his  friends.  He  died  at 
Montpelier,  his  seat  in  Thomaston,  25th  of  October, 
1806,  from  sudden  internal  inflammation,at  the  age  of  50^ 
from  the  full  vigour  of  health. 

The  great  qualities  of  General  Knox  were  not  merely 
those  of  the  hero  and  the  statesman;  with  these  were 
combined  those  of  the  elegant  scholar  and  the  accom 
plished  gentleman.  There  have  been  those  as  brave 
and  as  learned,  but  rarely  a  union  of  such  valour,  with 
so  much  urbanity — a  mind  so  great,  yet  so  free  from 
ostentation. 

Philanthropy  filled  his  heart ;  in  his  benevolence  there 
was  no  reserve — it  wras  as  diffusive  as  the  globe,  and 
extensive  as  the  family  of  man.  His  feelings  were 
strong  and  exquisitely  tender.  In  the  domestic  circle 
they  shone  with  peculiar  lustre — here,  the  husband,  the 
father,  and  the  friend,  beamed  in  every  smile— and  if  at 
any  time  a  cloud  overshadowed  his  own  spirit,  he  strove 
to  prevent  its  influence  from  extending  to  those  that  were 
dear  to  him.  He  was  frank,  generous,  and  sincere,  and 

Z 


186  BENJAMIN  LINCOLNS 

in  his  intercours  with  the  world,  uniformly  just.  His 
house  was  the  seat  of  elegant  hospitality,  and  his  esti 
mate  of  wealth,  was  its  power  of  diffusing  happiness. 
To  the  testimony  of  private  friendship,  may  be  added 
that  of  less  partial  strangers,  who  have  borne  witness, 
both  to  his  public  and  private  virtues.  Lord  Moira, 
who  is  now  perhaps  the  greatest  general  that  England 
can  boast  of,  has  in  a  late  publication  spoken  in  high 
terms  of  his  military  talents.  Nor  should  the  opinion 
of  the  Marquis  Chattleleux  be  omitted.  "As  for  Gen. 
Knox,"  he  says,  "to  praise  him  for  his  military  talents 
alone,  would  be  to  deprive  him  of  half  the  eulogium  he 
merits;  a  man  of  understanding,  well  informed,  gay, 
sincere,  and  honest — it  is  impossible  to  know  without 
esteeming  him,  or  to  see  without  loving  him.  Thus  have 
the  English,  without  intention,  added  to  the  ornaments  of 
the  human  species,  by  awakening  talents  where  they 
least  wished  or  expected."  Judge  Marshall  also,  in  his 
life  of  Washington,  thus  speaks  of  him:  "throughout 
the  contest  of  the  revolution,  this  off^er  had  continued 
at  the  head  of  the  American  artillery,  and  from  being 
colonel  of  a  regiment,  had  be^  Promoted  to  the  rank  of 
major  general.  In  this  important  s.jition  he  had  pre 
served  a  high  military  character,  and  on  the  resignation 
of  General  Lincoln,  had  been  appointed  secretary  of 
war.  To  his  great  services,  and  to  unquestionable  in 
tegrity,  he  was  admitted  to  unite  a  sound  understanding; 
and  the  public  judgment  as  well  as  that  of  the  chief 
magistrate,  pronounced  him  in  all  respects  competent  to 
the  station  he  filled.  The  president  was  highly  gratified 
in  believing  that  his  public  duty  comported  with  his  pri 
vate  inclination,  in  nominating  General  Knox  to  the 
office  which  had  been  confirmed  on  him  under  the  former 
government." 


BENJA3IIN  LINCOLN, 

Major-Gencral  in  the  American  Army. 

^GENERAL  LINCOLN  deserves  a  high  rank  in  the  fra* 
ternity  of  American  heroes.  He  was  born  in  Hingham, 
Massachusetts,  January  23d,  O,  S.  1733.  His  early 


BENJAMIN  LINCOLN.  187 

education  was  not  auspicious  to  his  future  eminence, 
and  his  vocation  was  that  of  a  farmer,  till  he  was  more 
than  ibrty  years  of  age,  though  he  was  commissioned  as 
a  magistrate,  and  elected  a  representative  in  the  state 
legislature.  In  the  year  1775,  he  sustained  the  office  of 
lieutenant  colonel  of  militia.  In  1776,  he  was  appoint 
ed  by  the  council  of  Massachusetts  a  brigadier,  and  soon 
after  a  major  general,  and  he  applied  himself  assiduous 
ly  to  training,  and  preparing  the  militia  for  actual  ser 
vice  in  the  field,  in  which  he  displayed  the  military  tal 
ents  which  he  possessed.  In  October,  he  marched  with 
a  body  of  militia  and  joined  the  main  army  at  New  York. 
The  Commander  in  chief,  from  a  knowledge  of  his  char 
acter  and  merit,  recommended  him  to  congress  as  arr 
excellent  officer,  and  in  February,  1777,  he  was  by  that 
honourable  body,  created  a  major  general  on  the  conti 
nental  esteblishment.  For  several  months  he  command 
ed  a  division,  or  detachments  in  the  main  army,  under 
Washington,  and  was  in  situations  which  required  the 
exercise  of  the  utmost  vigilance  and  caution,  as  well  as 
firmness  and  courage.  Having  the  command  of  about 
five  hundred  men  in  an  exposed  situation  near  Bound 
Brook,  through  the  neglect  of  his  patroles,  a  large  body 
of  the  enemy  approached  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
his  quarters  undiscovered ;  the  general  had  scarcely 
time  to  mount  and  leave  the  house  before  it  was  sur 
rounded.  He  led  off  his  troops  however,  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy,  and  made  good  his  retreat,  though  with  the  loss 
of  about  sixty  men  killed  and  wounded.  One  of  his  aids, 
with  the  general's  baggage  and  papers  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  as  did  also  three  small  pieces  of 
artillery.  In  July  1777,  General  Washington  selected 
him  to  join  the  northern  army  under  the  command  of 
General  Gates,  to  oppose  the  advance  of  General  Bur- 
goyne.  He  took  his  station  at  Manchester,  in  Vermont, 
to  receive  and  form  the  New  England  militia,  as  they 
arrived,  and  to  order  their  march  to  the  rear  of  'the 
British  army.  He  detached  Colonel  Brown,  with  fives 
hundred  men,  on  the  13th  of  September,  to  the  landing 
at  Lake  George,  where  he  succeeded  in  surprising  the 
enemy,  and  took  possession  of  two  hundred  batteaux,. 


188  BENJAMIN  LINCOLN- 

liberated  one  hundred  American  prisoners,  ad  captured 
two  hundred  and  ninety  three  of  the  enemy,  with  the 
Joss  of  only  three  killed  and  five  wounded.  This  en 
terprise  was  of  the  highest  importance,  and  contributed 
essentially  to  the  glorious  event  which  followed.  Hav 
ing  detached  two  other  parties  to  the  enmy's  posts  at 
Mount  Independence  and  Skenesborough,  Gen.  Lincoln 
united  his  remaining  force  with  the  army  under  General 
Gates,  and  was  the  second  in  command.  During  the 
sanguinary  conflict  on  the  7th  of  October,  Gen.  Lincoln 
commanded  within  our  lines,  and  at  one  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  he  marched  with  his  division  to  relieve  the 
troops  that  had  been  engaged,  and  to  occupy  the  battle 
ground,  the  enemy  having  retreated.  While  on  this  du 
ty  he  had  occasion  to  ride  forward  some  distance,  to 
reconnoitre,  and  to  order  some  disposition  of  his  own 
troops,  when  a  party  of  the  enemy  made  an  unexpected 
movement,  and  he  approached  within  musket  shot  before 
he  was  aware  of  his  mistake.  A  whole  volley  of  mus 
ketry  was  instantly  discharged  at  him  and  his  aids,  and 
he  received  a  wound  by  which  the  bones  of  his  leg  were 
badly  fractured,  and  he  was  obliged  to  be  carried  off 
the  field.  The  wound  was  a  formidable  one,  and  the 
loss  of  his  limb  was  for  some  time  apprehended.  He 
was  for  several  months  confined  at  Albany,  and  it  be 
came  necessary  to  remove  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
main  bone  before  he  was  conveyed  to  his  house  at 
Hingham,  and  under  this  painful  surgical  operation,  the 
writer  of  this  being  present,  witnessed  in  him  a  degree 
of  firmness  and  patience  not  to  be  exceeded.  4  have 
known  him,'  says  Colonel  Rice,  who  was  a  member  of 
his  military  family,  'during  the  most  painful  operation 
by  the  surgeon,  while  bystanders  were  frequently  obliged 
to  leave  the  room,  entertain  us  with  some  pleasant  an 
ecdote,  or  story,  and  draw  forth  a  smile  from  his  friends." 
His  wound  continued  several  years  in  an  ulcerated 
state,  and  by  the  loss  of  the  bone,  the  limb  was  shorten 
ed,  which  occasioned  lameness  during  the  remainder  of 
his  life. 

General  Lincoln  certainly  afforded    very   important 
assistance  in  the  capture  of  Burgoyne,  though  it  was  his 


BENJAMIN  LINCOLN. 

unfortunate  lot,  while  in  active  duty,  to  be  disabled  be 
fore  he  could  participate  in  the  capitulation.  Though 
his  recovery  was  not  complete,  he  repaired  to  head 
quarters  in  the  following  August,  and  was  joyfully  re 
ceived  by  the  commander  in  chief,  who  well  knew  how 
to.  appreciate  his  merit.  It  was  from  a  development  of 
his  estimable  character  as  a  man,  and  his  talents  as  a 
military  commander,  that  he  was  designated  by  con 
gress  for  the  arduous  duties  of  the  chief  command  in  the 
southern  department  under  innumerable  embarrass 
ments.  On  his  arrival  at  Charleston,  December,  1778, 
he  found  that  he  had  to  form  an  army,  to  provide  sup 
plies,  and  to  arrange  the  various  departments,  that  he 
might  be  able  to  cope  with  an  enemy  consisting  of  expe 
rienced  officers  and  veteran  troops.  This  it  is  obvious, 
required  a  man  of  superior  powers,  indefatigable  perse 
verance,  and  unconquerable  energy.  Had  not  these 
been  his  inherent  qualities,  Lincoln  must  have  yielded 
to  the  formidable  obstacles  which  opposed  his  progress. 
About  the  28th  of  December,  General  Prevost  arrived 
with  a  fleet,  and  about  three  thousand  British  troops, 
and  took  possession  of  Savannah,  after  routing  a  small 
party  of  Americans,  under  General  Robert  Howe. — 
General  Lincoln  immediately  put  his  troops  in  motion, 
and  took  post  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river,  about 
twenty  miles  from  the  city ;  but  he  was  not  in  force  to 
commence  offensive  operations,  till  the  last  of  February. 
In  April,  with  the  view  of  covering  the  upper  part  of 
Georgia,  he  marched  to  Augusta,  after  which  Prevost. 
the  British  commander,  crossed  the  river  into  Carolina, 
and  marched  for  Charleston.  General  Lincoln,  there 
fore,  recrossed  the  Savannah,  and  followed  his  route, 
and  on  his  arrival  near  the  city,  the  enemy  had  retired 
from  before  it  during  the  previous  night.  A  detachment 
of  the  enemy,  supposed  to  be  about  six  hundred  men, 
under  Lieutenant  Colonel  Maitland,  being  posted  at 
Stone  Ferry,  where  they  had  erected  works  for  their 
defence,  General  Lincoln  resolved  to  attack  them,  which 
he  did  on  the  19th  of  June.  The  contest  lasted  one 
hour  and  twenty  minutes,  in  which  he  lost  one  hundred 
and  sixty  men  killed  and  wounded,  and  the  enemy 


190  BENJAMIN  LINCOLN. 

suffered  about  an  equal  loss.  Their  works  were  found 
to  be  much  stronger  than  had  been  represented,  and  our 
artillery  proving  too  light  to  annoy  them,  and  the  enemy 
receiving  a  reinforcement,  our  troops  were  obliged  to 
retire. 

The  next  event  of  importance  which  occurred  with 
our  general,  was  the  bold  assault  on  Savannah,  in  con 
junction  with  the  count  D'Estaing.  General  Prevost 
had  again  possessed  himself  of  that  city,  and  Count 
D  Estaing,  arrived  with  his  fleet  and  armament  in  the 
beginning  of  September,  1779.  Having  landed  nearly 
three  thousand  French  troops,  General  Lincoln  immedi 
ately  united  about  one  thousand  men  to  his  force.  The 
prospect  of  success  was  highly  flattering,  but  the  enemy 
exerted  all  their  efforts  in  strengthening  their  lines,  and 
after  the  count  had  summoned  the  garrison,  and  while 
Prevost  was  about  to  arrange  articles  of  capitulation, 
he  received  a  reinforcement.  It  was  now  resolved  to 
attempt  the  place  by  a  regular  siege,  but  various  causes 
occasioned  a  delay  of  several  days,  and  when  it  com 
menced,  the  canonade  and  bombardment  failed  of  pro 
ducing  the  desired  effect,  and  the  short  time  allowed  the 
count  on  our  coast,  was  quite  insufficient  for  reducing  the 
garrison  by  regular  approaches.  The  commanders  con 
cluded  therefore,  to  make  an  effort  on  the  works  by  as 
sault.  On  the  9th  of  October,  in  the  morning,  the  troops 
were  led  on  by  D'Estaing  and  Lincoln  united,  while  a 
column  led  by  Count  Dillon  missed  their  route  in  the 
darkness,  and  failed  of  the  intended  co-operation.  A- 
midst  a  most  appalling  fire  of  the  covered  enemy,  the 
allied  troops  forced  the  abbatis,  and  planted  two  stan 
dards  on  the  parapets.  But  being  overpowered  at  the 
point  of  attack,  they  were  compelled  to  retire;  the 
French  having  seven  hundred,  the  Americans  two  hun 
dred  and  forty  killed  and  wounded.  The  Count  Pulas- 
ki,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  our  horse,  was  mortally 
wounded. 

General  Lincoln  next  repaired  to  Charleston,  and  en 
deavoured  to  put  that  city  in  a  posture  of  defence, 
urgently  requesting  of  congress  a  reinforcement  of  regu 
lar  troops,  and  additional  supplies,  which  were  but  par 


BENJAMIN  LINCOLN.  191 

tially  complied  with.  In  February,  1780,  General  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  arrived,  and  landed  a  formidable  force  in 
the  vicinity,  and  on  the  30th  of  March  encamped  in 
front  of  the  American  lines  at  Charleston.  Consider 
ing  the  vast  superiority  of  the  enemy,  both  in  sea  and 
land  forces,  it  might  be  questioned  whether  prudence 
and  correct  judgment,  would  dictate  an  attempt  to  de 
fend  the  city;  it  will  not  be  supposed  however,  that  the 
determination  was  formed  without  the  most  mature  de 
liberation,  and  for  reasons  perfectly  justifiable.  It  is 
well  known  that  the  general  was  in  continual  expecta 
tion  of  an  augmentation  of  strength  by  reinforcements. 
On  the  10th  of  April,  the  enemy  having  made  some  ad 
vances,  summoned  the  garrison  to  an  unconditional 
surrender,  which  was  promptly  refused.  A  heavy  and 
incessant  cannonade  was  sustained  on  each  side,  till 
the  llth  of  May,  when  the  besiegers  had  completed 
their  third  parallel  line,  and  having  made  a  second  de 
mand  of  surrender,  a  capitulation  was  agreed  on. 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that,  with  all  the  judicious  and 
vigorous  efforts  in  his  power,  General  Lincoln  was  re 
quited  only  by  the  frowns  of  fortune,  whereas  had  he 
been  successful  in  his  bold  enterprise  and  views,  he 
would  have  been  crowned  with  unfading  laurels.  But 
notwithstanding  a  series  of  disappointments  and  unfor 
tunate  occurrences,  he  was  censured  by  no  one,  nor  was 
his  judgment  or  merit  called  in  question.  He  retained 
his  popularity,  and  the  confidence  of  the  army,  and  was 
considered  as  a  most  zealous  patriot,  and  the  bravest  of 
soldiers. 

In  the  campaign  of  1781,  General  Lincoln  commanded 
a  division  under  Washington,  and  at  the  siege  of  York- 
town  he  had  his  full  share  of  the  honour  of  that  brill 
iant  and  auspicious  event.  The  articles  of  capitulation 
stipulated  for  the  same  honour  in  favour  of  the  surren 
dering  army,  as  had  been  granted  to  the  garrison  of 
Charleston.  General  Lincoln  was  appointed  to  conduct 
them  to  the  field  where  their  arms  were  deposited,  and 
received  the  customary  submission.  In  the  general 
order  of  the  commander  in  chief  the  day  after  the  ca 
pitulation,  General  Lincoln  was  among  the  genera! 


192  BENJAMIN  LINCOLN. 

officers  whose  services  were  particularly  mentioned.  In 
October,  1781,  he  was  chosen  by  congress  secretary  of 
war,  retaining  his  rank  in  the  army.  In  this  office  he 
continued  till  October,  1783,  when  his  proffered  resig 
nation  was  accepted  by  congress. 

Having  relinquished  the  duties  and  cares  of  a  public 
employment,  he  retired  and  devoted  his  attention  to  his 
farm;  but  in  1784,  he  was  chosen  one  of  the  commis 
sioners  and  agents  on  the  part  of  the  state  to  make  and 
execute  a  treaty  with  the  Penobscot  Indians.  When  in 
the  year  1786 — 7,  the  authority  of  our  state  government 
was  in  a  manner  prostrated,  and  the  country  alarmed 
by  a  most  audacious  spirit  of  insurrection,  under  the 
guidance  of  Shays  and  Day,  General  Lincoln  was  ap 
pointed  by  the  governor  and  council,  to  command  a 
detachment  of  militia,  consisting  of  four  or  five  thousand 
men,  to  oppose  their  progress,  and  to  compel  them  to  a 
submission  to  the  laws.  He  marched  from  Boston  on 
the  20th  of  January,  into  the  counties  of  Worcester, 
Hampshire,  and  Berkshire,  where  the  insurgents  had 
erected  their  standard.  They  were  embodied  in  con 
siderable  force,  and  manifested  a  determined  resistance, 
and  a  slight  skirmish  ensued  between  them  and  a  party 
of  militia  under  General  Shepherd.  Lincoln,  however, 
conducted  with  such  address  and  energy,  that  the  in 
surgents  were  routed  from  one  town  to  another,  till 
they  were  completely  dispersed  in  all  directions;  and  by 
his  wise  and  prudent  measures  the  insurrection  was  hap 
pily  suppressed  without  bloodshed,  excepting  a  few  in 
dividuals  who  were  slain  under  General  Shepherd's 
command. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  convention  for  ratifying  the 
federal  constitution,  and  in  the  summer  of  1789,  he  re 
ceived  from  President  Washington  the  appointment  of 
collector  of  -..*<?.  port  of  Boston,  which  office  he  sustained 
till  being  admonished  by  the  increasing  infirmities  of 
age,  he  requested  permission  to  resign. 

Having  after  his  resignation  of  the  office  of  collector 
passed  about  two  years  in  retirement,  and  in  trauquility 
of  mind,  but  experiencing  the  feebleness  of  age,  he  re 
ceived  a  short  attack  of  disease  by  which  his  honourable 


BENJAMIN  LINCOLN.  193 

fife   was  terminated  on  the  9th  of  May,  1810,  aged  77 
years. 

The  following  tribute  is  on  the  records  of  the  society 
of  Cincinnati.  "At  the  annual  meeting  in  July,  1810, 
Major  General  John  Brooks  was  chosen  president  of 
the  society,  to  supply  the  place  of  our  venerable  and 
much  lamented  president,  General  Benjamin  Lincoln, 
who  had  presided  over  the  society  from  the  organiza 
tion  thereof,  in  1783,  to  the  9th  of  May,  1810,  tlve  day 
of  his  decease,  with  the  entire  approbation  of  every 
member,  and  the  grateful  tribute  of  his  surviving  com- 
rads,  for  his  happy  guidance  and  affectionate  attentions 
during  so  long  a  period.*' 

While  at  Purysburg,  on  the  Savannah  River,  a  sol 
dier  named  Fielding,  having  been  detected  in  frequent 
attempts  to  desert,  was  tried  and  sentenced  to  be  hang 
ed.  The  general  ordered  the  execution.  The  rope 
broke;  a  second  was  procured  which  broke  also;  the 
case  was  reported  to  the  general  for  directions.  "  Let 
him  run,"  said  the  general,  "  Ithought  he  looked  like  a 
scape-gallows." 

Major  Garden,  in  his  anecdotes  of  the  American  rev 
olution,  relates  the  story  with  some  addition.  It  hap 
pened  that,  as  Fickling  was  led  to  execution,  the  surgeon 
general  of  the  army  passed  accidentally,  on  his  way -to 
his  quarters,  which  were  at  some  distance.  H^hen  the 
second  rope  was  procured,  the  adjutant  of  the  regiment, 
a  stout  and  heavy  man,  assayed  by  eve*y  means  to 
break  it,  but  without  effect.  Fickling  w<*s  then  halter 
ed,  and  again  turned  off,  when,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  bystanders,  the  rope  untwisted,  and  he  fell  a  second 
time  uninjured  to  the  ground.  A  cry  for  mercy  was  now 
general  throughout  the  ranks,  which  occasioned  Major 
Ladson,  aid-de-camp  to  General  Lincoln,  to  gallop  to 
head-quarters,  to  make  a  representation  of  facts 
which  were  no  sooner  stated,  th'in  an  immediate 
pardon  was  granted,  accompanied  with  an  order 
that  he  should  instantaneously  be  drummed,  with  eve 
ry  mark  of  infamy,  out  of  camp,  and  threatened  with 
instant  death,  if  he  ever  should  be  found  attempting  to 
approach  it.  In  che  interim,  the  surgeon-general  had 

A 


J94  JOHN    LAURENS. 

established  himself  at  his  quarters,  in  a  distant  barn, 
little  doubting  but  that  the  catastrophe  was  at  an  end, 
and  Fielding  quietly  resting  in  his  grave.  Midnight  was 
at  hand,  and  he  was  busily  engaged  in  writing,  when 
hearing  the  approach  of  a  footstep,  he  raised  his  eyes, 
and  saw  with  astonishment  the  figure  of  the  man,  who 
had  in  his  opinion  been  executed,  slowly  and  with  hag 
gard  countenance,  approaching  towards  him.  "  How! 
how  is  this?"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  '"whence  come  you? 
what  do  you  want  with  me?  were  yon  not  hanged  this 
morning?"  "Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  resuscitated  man, 
"I  am  the  wretch  you  saw  going  to  the.  gallows,  and  who 
was  hanged."  "Keep  your  distance,"  said  the  doctor, 
"approach  me  not  till,  you  say  why  you  come  here." 
"Simply,  sir,"  said  the  supposed  spectre,  "to  solicit  food. 
I  am  no  ghost,  doctor.  The  rope  broke  twice,  while  the 
executioner  was  doing  his  office,  and  the  general  thought 
proper  to  pardon  me."  "If  that  be  the  case,"  rejoined 
the  doctor,  "eat  and  be  welcome ;  but  I  beg  of  you  in 
future  to  have  a  little  more  consideration,  and  not  in 
trude  so  unceremoniously  into  the  apartment  of  one, 
who  had  every  right  to  suppose  you  an  inhabitant  of  the 
tomb."* 


JOHN  LAURRNS, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

"SoN  of  Ii^nry  Laurens,  was  born  in  Charleston,  in 
1755.  In  yoiuh  he  discovered  that  energy  of  character 
which  distinguished  him  through  life.  When  a  lad, 
though  labouring  under  a  fever,  on  the  cry  of  fire,  he 
leaped  from  his  bed,  hastened  to  the  scene  of  danger, 
and  was  in  a  few  minutes  on  the  top  of  the  exposed  hou 
ses,  risking  his  life  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  flames. 
This  is  the  more  worthy  of  notice,  for  precisely  in  the 
same  way,  and  under  a  similar,  but  higher  impulse  of 
ardent  patriotism,  ht  lost  his  life  in  the  year  1782. 

At  the  age  of  sixtetn  he  was  taken  to  Europe  by  his 
father,  and  there  put  under  the  best  means  of  insruction 
in  Geneva,  and  afterward  m  London. 

*Thacher's  Military  Journal. 


JOHN  LAURENS  195 

He  was  enten-a  Q   student  of  law  at  the  temple  in 
1774,  and  was  daily  imping  jn   iegai  knowledg  till 
the  disputes  hetween  Great  Britain  <xnd  her  colonies  ar 
rested  his  attention.     He  soon  found  that  the  claims  of 
the   mother  country  struck  at  the  root  of  liberty  in  the 
colonies,  and  that  she  perseveringly  resolved  to  enforce 
these    claims    at    every   hazard.     Fain   would  he  have 
come  out  to  join  his  countrymen  inarms  at  the  com 
mencement  of  the  contest;  hut  the  peremptory   older  of 
his  father  enjoined  his  continuance  in  England,  to  prose 
cute  his  studies  and  finish  his  education.     As  a  dutiful 
son  he   obeyed  these   orders;  but  as  a  patriot,  burning 
with  desire  to  defend  his  country,  he  dismissed  Coke, 
Littleton,  and  all  the  tribe  of  jurists,  and  substituted  in 
their  place  Vauban,  Folard,  and  other  writers  on  war. 
He  also  availed  himself  of  the    excellent  opportunities 
which  London  affords  of  acquiring  practical  knowledge 
of  the  manual  exercise,  of  tactics,  and   the  mechanism 
of  war.     Thus  instructed,  as  soon  as  he  was  a  freeman 
of  legal  age,  he  quitted  England  for  France,  and  by  a 
circuitous  voyage  in  neutral  vessels,  and  at  a  considerble 
risk,  made  his  way  good,  in  the  year  1777,  to  Charleston. 
Independence  had  been  delared — the  American  army 
was  raised,  officered,  and  in  the  field.     He  who,  by  his 
attainments  in  general  science,  and  particularly  in  the 
military  art,  deserved  high  rank,  had  no  ordinary  door 
left  open  to  serve  his  country,  but  by  entering  in  the  low 
est  grade  of  an  army  abounding  with  officers.     General 
Washington,  ever  attentive  to  merit,  instantly  took  him 
into  his  family  as  a  supernumerary  aid-de-camp.   Short 
ly  after  this  appointment,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  in 
dulging  his  military  ardour.      He  fought  and  was  woun 
ded   in  the  battle   of  Germantown,  October  4th,   1777. 
He  continued  in   General    Washington's   family  in  the 
middle  states  till  the  British  had  retreated  from  Phila 
delphia  to  New  York,  and  was  engaged  in  the  battle  of 
Monmouth,  June  28,  1778 

.After  this,  the  war  being  transferred  more  northward 
ly,  he  was  indulged  in  attaching  himself  to  the  army  on 
Rhode-Island,  where  the  most  active  operations  were  ex 
pected  soon  to  take  place.  There  he  was  intrusted  with 


196  JOHN  LAUREN9. 

the  command  of  some  light  troops.  Th*  Bravery  and  good 
conduct  which  he  displayed  ««  ^iis  occasion  was  hon 
oured  by  congress. 

On  the   5th  of  November,  1778,  they  resolved,  "that 
John  Laurens,  Esq.  ad-de-camp  to  General  Washington, 
be  presented  with   a  continental  commission  of  lieuten 
ant  colonel,  in  testimony  of  the   sense  which  congress 
entertain  of  his  patriotic  and  spirited  services  as  a  vol 
unteer  in  the  American  army;  and  of  his  brave  conduct 
in  several  actions,  particularly  in  that  of  Rhode-Island, 
on  the  29th  of  Angust  last;  and  that  Gen.  Washington 
be  directed,  whenever  an  opportunity  shall  offer,  to  give 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Laurens  command  agreeable  to  his 
rank."     On  the  next  day,  a  letter  from  Lieutenant  Col, 
Laurens  was  read  in  congress,  expressing  "his  gratitude 
for  the  unexpected  honour  which  congress  were  pleased 
to  confer  on  him  by  the  resolution  passed  the  day  be 
fore  ;  and   the   high  satisfaction  it  would  have  afforded 
him,  could   he  have   accepted  it   without  injuring  the 
rights  of  the  officers  in  the  line  of  the  army,  and  doing 
an  evident  injustice    to  his  colleagues   in  the   family  of 
the  commander  in  chief — that  having  been  a  spectator 
of  the  convulsions  occasioned  in  the  army  by  disputes  of 
rank,  he  held  the  tranquilky  of  it  too  dear  to  be  instru 
mental  in  disturbing  it,  and  therefore  entreated  congress 
to  suppress  the  resolve  of  yesterday,   ordering  him  a 
commission  of  lieutenant-colonel,  and  to  accept  his  sin 
cere  thanks  for  the  intended  honour."  In  this  relinquish- 
ment  there  was  a  victory  gained  by  patriotism  over  self 
love.     Lieutenant-Colonel  Laurens  loved  military  fame 
and  rank;  but  he  loved  his  country  more, and  sacrificed 
the  former  to  preserve  the  peace  and  promote  the  inter 
ests  of  the  latter. 

In  the  next  year  the  British  derected  their  military 
operations  chiefly  against  the  most  southern  states. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  John  Laurens  was  induced  by  double 
motives  to  repair  to  Carolina.  The  post  of  danger  was 
always  the  object  of  his  preference.  His  native  state 
was  become  the  theatre  of  war.  To  its  aid  he  repaired, 
and  in  May  1779  with  a  party  of  light  troops,  had  a 
skirmish  with  the  British  at  Tulifinny.  In  endeavouring 


JOHN  LAURENS.  197 

to  obstruct  their  progress  towards  Charleston,  he  re 
ceived  a  wound.  This  was  no  sooner  cured  than  he 
rejoined  the  army,  and  was  engaged  in  the  unsuccessful 
attack  at  Savannah,  on  the  9th  of  October  of  the  same 
year.  To  prepare  for  the  defence  of  Charleston,  the 
reduction  of  which  was  know  to  be  contemplated  by 
the  British,  was  the  next  object  of  attention  among  the 
Americans.  To  this  Colonel  Laurens  dovoted  all  the 
energies  of  his  active  mind. 

In  the  progress  of  the  siege,  which  commenced  in 
1780,  the  success  of  defensive  operations  became  doubt 
ful.  Councils  of  war  were  frequent — several  of  the 
citizens  were  known  to  winh  for  a  surrender  as  a  ter 
mination  of  their  toils  and  dangers.  In  these  councils, 
and  on  proper  occasions,  Colonel  Laurens  advocated 
the  abandonment  of  the  front  lines,  and  to  retire  to  new 
ones,  to  be  erected  within  the  old  ones,  and  to  risk  an 
assault.  When  these  spirited  measures  were  opposed 
on  the  suggestion  that  the  inhabitants  preferred  a  ca 
pitulation,  he  declared  that  he  would  direct  his  sword 
to  the  heart  of  the  first  citizen  who  would  urge  a  ca 
pitulation  againt  the  opinion  of  the  commander  in  chief. 

When  his  superior  officers,  convinced  of  the  ineffica- 
cy  of  further  resistance,  were  disposed  to  surrender  on 
terms  of  capitulation,  he  yielded  to  the  necessity  of  the 
case,  and  became  a  prisoner  of  war.  This  reverse  of 
fortune  opened  a  new  door  for  serving  his  country  in  a 
higher  line  than  he  ever  yet  had  done.  He  was  soon 
exchanged,  and  reinstated  in  a  capacity  for  acting.  In 
expediting  his  exchange,  congress  had  the  ulterior  view 
of  sending  him  a  special  minister  to  Paris,  that  he  might 
urge  the  necessity  of  a  vigorous  co-operation  on  the 
part  of  France  with  the  United  States  against  Great 
Britain.  When  this  was  proposed  to  Colonel  Laurens, 
he  recommended  and  urged  that  Colonel  Alexander 
Hamilton  should  be  employed  in  preference  to  himself. 
Congress  a^ped  to  their  first  choice. 

Coloneljaiirens  sailed  for  France  in  the  latter  end 
of  1780:  ^p  there,  in  conjunction  with  Dr.  Franklin, 
and  Count  de  Vergennes,  and  Marquis  de  Castries,  ar 
ranged  the  plan  of  the  campaign  for  1781 :  which 


198  CHARLES    LEE. 

eventuated  in  the  surrender  of  Lord  Tornwallis,  and 
finally  in  a  termination  of  the  war.  Within  six  months 
from  the  day  Colonel  Laurens  left  America,  he  returned 
to  it,  and  brought  with  him  the  concerted  plan  of  com 
bined  operations.  Ardent  to  rejoin  the  army,  he  was 
indulged  with  making  a  verbal  report  of  his  negotia 
tions  to  congress;  and  in  three  days  set  out  to  resume 
his  place  as  one  of  the  aids  of  Washington.  The  Amer 
ican  and  French  army,  about  this  time  commenced  the 
siege  of  Yorktown.  In  the  course  of  it,  Colonel  Laurens, 
as  second  in  command,  with  his  fellow  aid,Col.  Hamilton, 
assisted  in  storming  and  taking  an  advanced  British 
redoubt,  which  expedited  the  surrender  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis.  The  articles  of  capitulation  were  arranged  by 
Col.  Laurens  on  behalf  of  the  Americans. 

Charleston  and  a  part  of  South  Carolina  still  remain 
ed  in  the  power  of  the  British.  Colonel  Laurens  thought 
nothing  done  while  any  thing  remained  undone.  He 
therefore,  on  the  surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  repaired 
to  South  Carolina,  and  joined  the  southern  army  com 
manded  by  General  Greene.  In  the  course  of  the  sum 
mer  of  1782  he  caught  a  common  fever,  and  was  sick  in 
bed  when  an  expedition  was  undertaken  against  a  party 
of  the  British,  which  had  gone  to  Combakee  to  carry  off 
rice.  Col.  Laurens  rose  from  his  sick  bed  and  joined 
his  countrymen.  While  leading  an  advanced  party,  he 
received  a  shot  which,  on  the  27th  of  August,  1782,  at 
the  close  of  the  war,  put  an  end  to  his  valuable  life,  in 
the  27th  year  of  his  age.  His  many  virtues  have  been 
ever  since  the  subject  of  eulogy,  and  his  early  fall,  of 
national  lamentation.  The  fourth  of  July  seldom  pass 
ed  without  a  tribute  to  his  memory."* 


CHARLES  LEE, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  LEE  was  an  original  genius,  posseAig  the  most 
brilliant  talents,  great  military  prowess,  a^kextensive 
intelligence  and  knowledge  of  the  worlo^  He  was 

*  Ramsay's  South  Carolina. 


GHARLES    LEE.  199 

born  in  Wales'  his  family  springing  from  the  same  parent 
stock  with  the  Earl  of  Leicester. 

He  may  be  properly  called  a  child  of  Mars,  for  he 
was  an  officer  when  but  eleven  years  old.  His  favour 
ite  study  was  the  science  of  war,  and  his  warmest  wish 
was  to  become  distinguished  in  it-;  but  though  possessed 
of  a  military  spirit,  he  was  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of  gener 
al  knowledge.  He  acquired  a  competent  skill  in  Greek 
and  Latin,  while  his  fondness  for  travelling  made  him 
acquainted  with  the  Italian,  Spanish,  German,  and 
French  languages. 

In  1756,  he  came  to  America,  captain  of  a  company 
of  grenadiers,  and  was  present  at  the  defeat  of  General 
Abercombie,  at  Ticonderoga,  where  he  received  a  se 
vere  wound.  In  1762,  he  bore  a  colonel's  commission, 
and  served  under  Burgoyne  at  Portugal,  where  he  great 
ly  distinguished  himself,  and  received  the  stongest  re 
commendations,  for  his  gallantry;  but  his  early  attach 
ment  to  the  American  colonies,  evinced  in  his  writings 
against  the  oppressive  acts  of  parliament,  lost  him  the 
favour  of  the  ministry.  Despairing  of  promotion,  and 
despising  a  life  of  inactivity,  he  left  his  native  soil  and 
entered  into  the  service  of  his  Polish  majesty,  as  one  of 
his  aids,  with  the  rank  of  major-general. 

His  rambling  disposition  led  him  to  travel  all  over 
Europe,  during  the  years  of  1771,  1772,  and  part  of 
1773,  and  his  warmth  of  temper  drew  him  into  several 
rencounters,  among  which  was  an  affair  of  honour  with 
an  officer  in  Italy.  The  contest  was  begun  with  swords, 
when  the  general  lost  two  of  his  fingers.  Recourse  was 
then  had  to  pistols.  His  adversary  was  slain,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  flee  from  the  country,  in  order  that  he 
might  avoid  the  unpleasant  circumstances  which  might 
result  from  this  unhappy  circumstance. 

General  Lee  appeared  to  be  influenced  by  an  innate 
principle  of  republicanism  ;  an  attachment  to  these  prin 
ciples  was  implanted  in  the  constitution  of  his  mind, 
and  he  esp^|ed  the  cause  of  America  as  a  champion  of 
her  emanc^ption  from  oppression. 

Glowing  with  these  sentiments,  he  embarked  for  this 
country,  and  arrived  at  New  York  on  the  10th  of  Nov< 


200  CHARLES    LEE. 

1773.  On  his  arrival,  he  became  daily  more  enthusias 
tic  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  travelled  rapidly  through 
the  colonies  animating,  both  by  conversation  and  his  elo 
quent  pen,  to  a  determined  and  persevering  resistance  to 
British  tyranny. 

His  enthusiasm  in  favour  of  the  rights  of  the  colonies 
was  such,  that,  after  the  battle  of  Lexington;  he'accep- 
ted  a  major-general's  commission  in  the  American  army; 
though  his  ambition  had  pointed  out  to  him  the  post  of 
commander  in  chief,  as  the  object  of  his  wishes.  Pre 
vious  to  this,  however  he  resigned  his  commission  in  the 
British  service,  and  relinquished  his  half  pay.  This  he 
did  in  a  letter  to  the  British  secretary  at  war,  in  which 
he  expressed  his  disapprobation  of  the  oppressive  meas 
ures  of  parliament,  declaring  them  to  be  so  absolutely 
subversive  of  the  rights  and  liberties  of  every  individual 
subject,  so  destructive  to  the  whole  empire  at  large,  and 
ultimately  so  ruinous  to  his  majesty's  own  person,  dig 
nity,  and  family,  that  he  thought  himself  obliged  in  con 
science,  as  a  citizen,  Englishman,  and  soldier  of  a  free 
state,  to  exert  his  utmost  to  defeat  them." 

Immediately  upon  receiving  his  appointment,  he  ac 
companied  General  Washington  to  the  camp  at  Cam 
bridge,  where  he  arrived  July  2d,  1775,  and  was  re 
ceived  with  every  mark  of  respect. 

As  soon  as  it  was  discovered  at  Cambridge  that  the 
British  General  Clinton  had  left  Boston,  General  Lee 
was  ordered  to  set  forward,  to  observe  his  manoeuvres, 
and  prepare  to  meet  him  in  any  part  of  the  continent  he 
might  visit.  No  man  was  better  qualified,  at  this  early 
stage  of  the  war,  to  penetrate  the  designs  of  the  enemy, 
than  Lee.  Nursed  in  the  camp,  and  well  versed  in 
European  tactics,  the  soldiers  believed  him,  of  all  other 
officers,  the  best  able  to  face  in  the  field  an  experienced 
British  veteran,  and  lead  them  on  to  victory. 

New-York  was  supposed  to  be  the  object  of  the  ene 
my,  and  hither  he  hastened  with  all  possible  expedition. 
Immediately,  on  his  arrival,  Lee  took  thomost  active 
and  prompt  measures,  to  put  in  a  state  of  ^pence.  He 
disarmed  all  suspected  persons,  within  the  reach  of  his 
command,  and  proceeded  with  such  rigour  against  the 


CHARLES    LEE.  201 

txmes,  as  to  give  alarm  at  his  assumption  of  military 
powers.  From  the  tories  he  exacted  a  strong  oath,  and 
his  bold  measures  carried  terror  wherever  he  appeared. 

"Not  long  after  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of 
the  southern  department,  and  in  his  travels  through  the 
country,  he  received  every  testimony  of  high  respect 
from  the  people.  General  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  and  Sir 
Peter  Parker,  with  a  powerful  fleet  and  army,  attempt 
ed  the  reduction  of  Charleston,  while  he  was  in  the 
command.  The  fleet  anchored  within  half  musket-shot 
of  the  fort  on  Sullivan's  Island;  where  Col.  Moultrie, 
one  of  the  bravest  and  most  intrepid  of  men,  command 
ed.  A  tremendous  engagement  ensued  on  the  28th  of 
June,  1776,  which  lasted  twelve  hours  without  intermis 
sion.  The  whole  British  force  was  completely  repulsed, 
after  suffering  an  irreparable  loss.  >  . 

Gen.  Lee  and  Col.  Moultrie  received  the  thanks  of 
Congress  for  their  signal  bravery  and  gallantry. 

Our  hero  had  now  reached  the  pinnacle  of  his  milita 
ry  glory;  the  eclat  of  his  name  alone  appeared  to  en 
chant  and  animate  the  most  desponding  heart.  But 
here  we  pause  to  contemplate  the  humiliating  reverse 
of  human  events.  He  returned  to  the  main  army  in 
October;  and  in  marching  at  the  head  of  a  large  de 
tachment  through  the  Jerseys,  having,  from  a  desire  of 
retaining  a  separate  command,  delayed  his  march  sev 
eral  days,  in  disobedience  of  express  ord-ers  from  the 
commander  in  chief,  he  was  guilty  of  most  culpable 
negligence  in  regard  to  his  personal  security.  He  took 
up  his  quarters  two  or  three  miles  from  the  main  body, 
and  lay  for  the  night,  December  13th,  1776,  in  a  careless, 
exposed  situation.  Information  of  this  being  commu 
nicated  to  Colonel  Harcourt,  who  commanded  the  Brit 
ish  light-horse,  he  proceeded  immediately  to  the  house, 
fired  into  it,  and  obliged  the  general  to  surrender  him 
self  a  prisoner.  They  mounted  him  on  a  horse  in  haste, 
without  his  cloak  or  hat,  and  conveyed  him  in  triumph 
to  New-York."* 

*Thacher's  Military  Journal. 

B2 


202  CHARLES    LEE. 

Lee  was  treated,  while  a  prisoner,  with  great  severity 
by  the  enemy,  who  affected  to  consider  him  as  a  state 
prisoner  and  deserter  from  the  service  of  his  Britannic 
majesty,  and  denied  the  privileges  of  an  American  offi 
cer.  Gen.  Washington  promptly  retaliated  the  treat 
ment  received  by  Lee  upon  the  British  officers  in  his 
possession.  This  state  of  things  existed  until  the  cap 
ture  of  Burgoyne,  when  a  complete  change  of  treatment 
was  observed  towards  Lee;  and  he  was  shortly  after 
ward  exchanged. 

The  first  military  act  of  Gen.  Lee,  after  his  exchange, 
closed  his  career  in  the  American  army.  Previous  to 
the  battle  of  Monmouth,  his  character  in  general  was 
respectable.  From  the  beginning  of  the  contest,  his 
un remitter!  zeal  in  the  cause  of  America  excited  and 
directed  the  military  spirit  of  the  whole  continent-,  and 
his  conversation  inculcated  the  principles  of  liberty 
among  all  rants  of  the  people. 

His  important  services  excited  the  warm  gratitude  of 
many  of  the  friends  of  America.  Hence  it  is  said  that 
a  strong  party  was  formed  in  congress,  and  by  some  dis 
contented  officers  in  the  army,  to  raise  Lee  to  the  first 
command:  and  it  has  been  suggested  by  many,  that 
General  Lee's  conduct  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth  was 
intended  to  effect  this  plan:  for  could  the  odium  of  the 
defeat  have  been  at  this  time  thrown  on  General  Wash 
ington,  there  is  great  reason  to  suppose  that  he  would 
have  been  deprived  of  his  command. 

It  is  now  to  be  seen  how  General  Lee  terminated  his 
military  career.  In  the  brittle  of  Monmouth.  on  the  2«th 
of  June,  1778,  he  commanded  the  van  of  the  American 
troops,  with  orders  from  the  commander  in  chief  to  at 
tack  the  retreating  enemy.  Instead  of  obeying  this 
order,  he  conducted  in  -in  unworthy  manner,  and  greatly 
disconcerted  the  arrangements  of  the  day.  Washing 
ton,  advancing  to  the  field  of  battle,  met  him  in  his  dis 
orderly  retreat,  and  accosted  him  with  strong  expres 
sions  of  disapprobation.  Lee,  incapable  of ,  brooking 
even  an  implied  indignity,  and  unable  to  restrain  the 
warmth  of  his  resentment,  used  improper  language  in 
return,  and  some  irritation  wa^excited  on  both  sides. 


CHARLES    LEE.  103 

The  following  letters  immediately  after  passed  between 
Lee  and  the  commander  in  chief. 

Camp,  English  Town,  \st  July,  1778. 
SIR — From  the  knowledge  that  I  have  of  your  Excel 
lency's  character,  I  must  conclude  that  nothing  but  the 
misinformation  of  some  very  stupid,  or  misrepresenta 
tion  of  some  very  wicked  person,  could  have  occasioned 
your  making  use  of  such  very  singular  expressions  as 
you  did,  on  my  coming  up  to  the  ground  where  you  h,.d 
taken  post:  they  implied  that  [  was  guily  eitrur  of  diso 
bedience  of  orders,  want  of  conduct,  or  want  of  cour 
age.  Your  Excellency  will,  therefore,  infinitely  oblige 
me,  by  letting  me  know  on  which  of  these  three  articles 
you  ground  your  charge,  that  I  may  prepare  for  my  jus 
tification;  which  I  have  the  happiness  to  be  confident  I 
can  do,  to  the  army,  to  the  congress,  to  America,  and 
to  the  world  in  general.  Your  Excellency  must  give  me 
leave  to  observe,  that  neither  yourself,  nor  those  about 
your  person,  could,  from  your  situation,  be  in  the  least 
judges  of  the  merits  or  demerits  of  our  manoeuvres;  and, 
to  speak  with  a  becoming  pride,  I  can  assert  that  to 
these  manoeuvres  the  success  of  the  day  was  entirely 
owing.  I  can  boldly  say,  that,  had  we  remained  on  the 
first  ground — or  had  we  advanced — or  had  the  retreat 
been  conducted  in  a  manner  different  from  what  it  was, 
this  whole  army,  and  the  interests  of  America,  would 
have  risked  being  sacrificed.  I  ever  had,  and,  I  hope, 
ever  shall  have,  the  greatest  respect  and  veneration  for 
General  Washington;  I  think  him  endued  with  many 
great  and  good  qualities;  but  in  this  instance  I  must  pro 
nounce,  that  he  has  been  guilty  of  an  act  of  cruel  injus 
tice  towards  a  man,  who  had  certainly  some  pretensions 
to  the  regatd  of  every  servant  of  his  country  ;  and  1  think, 
sir,  I  have  a  right  to  demand  some  reparation  for  the 
injury  committed;  and  unless  I  can  obtain  it,  I  must,  in 
justice  to  myself,  when  the  campaign  is  closed,  which  I 
believe  will  close  the  war,  retire  from  a  service,  at  the 
head  of  which  is  placed  a  man  capable  of  offering  such 
inj  iries; — but  at  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  you.  I  must 
repeat  that  I.  from  my  soul,  believe  that  it  was  not  a 


104  CHARLES    LEE. 

motion  of  your  own  breast,  but  instigated  by  some  of 
those  dirty  earwigs,  who  will  for  ever  insinuate  them 
selves  near  persons  in  high  office;  for  I  am  really  assu 
red  that,  when  General  Washington  acts  from  himself, 
no  man  in  his  army  will  have  reason  to  complain  of 
injustice  and  indecorum. 

I  am,  sir,  and  1  hope  ever  shall  have  reason  to  con 
tinue,  Yours,  &c. 

CHARLES  LEE. 
His  Excellency  Gen.  Washington. 

Head  Quarters,  English  Town,  28th  June,  1778. 

SIR — I  received  your  letter,  dated  through  mistake 
the  1st  of  July,  expressed,  as  I  conceive,  in  terms  highly 
improper.  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  made  use  of 
any  singular  expressions  at  the  time  of  my  meeting  yon, 
as  you  intimate.  What  1  recollect  to  have  said  was 
dictated  by  duty,  and  warranted  by  the  occasion.  As 
soon  as  circumstances  will  admit, you  shall  have  an  op 
portunity,  either  of  justifying  yourself  to  the  army,  to 
Congress,  to  America,  and  to  the  world  in  general,  or 
of  convincing  them  that  you  are  guilty  of  a  breach  of 
orders,  and  of  misbehaviour  before  the  enemy  on  the 
28th  instant,  in  not  attackingthem  as  you  had  been  di 
rected,  and  in  making  an  unnecessary,  disorderly,  and 
shameful  retreat. 

I  am,  sir,  your  most  obedient  servant., 

G.  \\  ASHINGTON. 

A  court  martial,  of  which  Lord  Stirling  was  president, 
was  ordered  for  his  trial,  and  after  a  masterly  defence 
by  General  Lee,  found  him  guilty  of  all  the  charges,  and 
sentenced  him  to  be  suspended  from  any  command  in 
the  army  for  the  term  of  twelve  months.  This  sentence 
was  shortly  afterward  confirmed  by  congress. 

When  promulgated,  it  was  like  a  mortal  wound  to  the 
lofty,  aspiring  spirit  of  General  Lee;  pointing  to  his 
dog  he  exclaimed — "Oh  that  I  was  that  animal,  that  I 
might  not  call  man  my  brother."  He  became  outrage 
ous,  and  from  that  moment  he  was  more  open  and  viru 
lent  in  his  attack  on  the  character  of  the  Commander 


CHARLES    LEE.  205 

in  chief,  and  olid  not  cease  in  his  unwearied  endeavours 
both  in  his  conversation  and  writings  to  lessen  his  repu 
tation  in  the  estimation  of  the  army,  and  the  public. 
He  was  an  active  abettor  of  General  Convvay,  in  his 
calumny  and  abuse  of  General  Washington,  and  they 
were  believed  to  be  in  concert  in  their  vile  attempts  to 
supersede  his  Excellency  in  the  supreme  command. 
With  the  hope  of  effecting  his  nefarious  purpose,  he 
published  a  pamphlet  replete  with  scurrilous  imputations 
unfavourable  to  the  military  talents  of  the  Commander 
in  chief,  but  this,  with  his  other  malignant  allegations, 
was  consigned  to  contempt. 

At  length  Colonel  Laurens,  one  of  General  Washing 
ton's  aids,  unable  longer  to  suffer  this  gross  abuse  of  his 
illustrious  friend,  demanded  of  Lee  that  satisfaction 
which  custom  has  sanctioned  as  honourable.  A  ren 
counter  accordingly  ensued,  and  Lee  received  a  wound 
in  his  side. 

Lee  now\ finding  himself  abandoned  by  his  friends, 
degraded  in  the  eye  of  the  public,  and  despised  by  the 
wise  and  virtuous,  retired  to  his  sequestered  plantation 
in  Virginia.  In  this  spot,  secluded  from  all  society,  he 
lived  in  a  sort  of  hovel  without  glass  windows  or  plas- 
teriv^g,  or  even  a  decent  article  of  house  furniture;  here 
he  amused  himself  with*his  books  and  dogs.  On  Janua 
ry  10th,  1780,  congress  resolved  that  Major-General 
Lee  be  informed  that  they  have  no  further  occasion  for 
his  services  in  the  army  of  the  United  States.  In  the 
autumn  of  1782,  wearied  with  his  forlorn  situation,  and 
broken  spirit,  he  resorted  to  Philadelphia,  and  took 
lodgings  in  an  ordinary  tavern.  He  was  soon  seized 
with  a  disease  of  the  lungs,  and  after  a  few  days'  con 
finement,  he  terminated  his  mortal  course,  a  martyr  to 
chagrin  and  disappointment,  October  2d,  1782.  The 
last  words  which  he  was  heard  to  utter  were,  "stand  by 
me,  my  brave  grenadiers." 

General  Lee  .was  rather  above  the  middle  size, 
"plain  in  his  person  even  to  ugliness,  and  careless  in  his 
manners  even  to  a  degree  of  rudeness;  his  nose  was  so 
remarkably  aquiline,  that  it  appeared  as  a  real  defor 
mity.  His  voice  was  rough,  his  garb  ordinary,  his  de- 


200  CHARLES    LEE. 

portment  morose.  He  was  ambitious  of  fame  without 
the  dignity  to  support  it.  In  private  life  he  sunk  into  the 
vulgarity  of  the  clown."  His  remarkable  partiality 
for  dogs,  was  such,  that  a  number  of  these  animals  con 
stantly  followed  in  his  train,  and  the  ladies  complained 
that  he  allowed  his  canine  adherents  to  follow  him  in  the 
parlour,  and  not  unfrequently  a  favorite  one  might  be 
Seen  on  a  chair  next  his  elbow  at  table. 

In  the  year  1776,  when  our  army  lay  at  White  Plains, 
Lee  resided  near  the  road  which  General  Washington 
frequently  passed,  and  he  one  day  with  his  aids  called 
and  took  dinner:  after  they  had  departed,  Lee  said  to 
his  aids,  "you  must  look  me  out  other  quarters,  or  I  shall 
have  Washington  and  his  puppies  calling  till  they  eat 
me  up."  The  next  day  he  ordered  his  servant  to  write 
with  chalk  on  the  door,  "no  victuals  cooked  here  to 
day."  The  company,  seeing  the  hint  on  the  door,  pas 
sed  with  a  smile  at  the  od  lity  of  the  man.  "The  char 
acter  of  this  person,"  says  one  who  knew  him  well,  "is 
full  of  absurdities  and  qualities  of  a  most  extraordinary 
nature."* 

While  in  Philadelphia  shortly  before  his  death,  the 
following  ludicrous  circumstance  took  place,  which  cre 
ated  no  small  diversion. 

The  late  Judge  Brackenridge,  whose  poignancy  of 
satire  and  eccentricity  of  character  was  nearly  a  match 
for  that  of  the  General,  had  dipped  his  pen  in  some  gall, 
which  greatly  irritated  Lee's  feelings,  insomuch  thai  he 
challenged  him  to  single  combat,  which  Brackenridge 
declined  in  a  very  eccentric  reply.  Lee,  having  furnish 
ed  himself  with  aj.iprsewhip,  determined  to  chastise  him 
ignominiously  on  the  very  first  opportunity.  Observing 
Brackenridge  going  down  Market-street,  a  few  days 
after,  he  gave  him  chase,  and  Brackenridge  took  refuse 
in  a  public  house,  and  barricadoed  the  door  of  the  room 
he  entered.  A  number  of  persons  collected  to  see  the 
result.  Lee  damned  him,  and  invited  him  to  come  out 
and  fight  him  like  a  man.  Brackenridge  replied,  that 
he  did  not  like  to  be  shot  at,  and  made  some  other 

""Thatcher's  Journal. 


CHARLES    LEE.  207 

curious  observations,  which  only  increased  Lee's  irrita 
tion,  and  the  mirth  of  the  spectators.  Lee,  with  the  most 
bitter  imprecation,  ordered  him  to  come  out,  when  he 
said  he  would  horsewhip  him.  Brarkenridge  replied, 
that  he  had  no  occasion  for  a  discipline  of  that  kind. 
The  amusing  scene  lasted  some  time,  until  at  length 
Lee,  finding  that  he  could  accomplish  no  other  object 
than  calling  forth  Brackenridge's  wit  for  the  amusement 
of  the  by-standers,  retired. 

General  Lee  was  master  of  a  most  genteel  address, 
but  was  rude  in  his  manners,  and  excessively  negligent 
in  his  appearance  and  behaviour.  His  appetite  was  so 
whimsical,  that  he  was  every  where  a  most  troublesome 
guest.  Two  or  three  dogs  usually  followed  him  wherev 
er  he  went.  As  an  officer  he  was  brave  and  able,  and 
did  much  towards  disciplining  the  American  army. 
With  vigorous  powers  of  min  i  and  a  brilliant  fancy,  he 
was  a  correct  and  elegant  classical  scholar,  and  he  both 
wrote  and  spoke  his  native  language  with  propriety, 
force,  and  beauty.  His  temper  was  severe;  (he  history 
of  his  life  is  little  else  than  the  history  of  disputes,  quar 
rels,  and  duels,  in  every  part  of  the  world.  He  was 
vindictive,  avaricious,  immoral,  impious,  and  profane. 
His  principles,  as  would  be  expected  from  his  character, 
were  most  abandoned,  and  he  ridiculed  every  tenet  of 
religion.  Two  virtues  he  possessed  to  an  eminent  de 
gree,  sincerity  and  veracity.  It  was  notorious  that  Gen, 
Lee  was  a  man  of  unbounded  personal  ambition,  and, 
conscious  of  his  European  education,  and  pre-eminent 
military  talents  and  prowess,  he  affected  a  superiority 
over  Genera]  Washington,  and  constantly  aimed  at  the 
supreme  command,  little  scrupulous  as  to  the  means  em 
ployed  to  accomplish  his  own  advancement. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  General  Lee's  will. 

"I  desire  most  earnestly  that  I  may  not  be  buried  in 
any  church  or  churchyard,  or  within  a  mile  of  any  Pres 
byterian  or  Anabaptist  Meeting  House,  for  since  I  have 
resided  in  this  country,  1  have  kept  so  much  bad  compa 
ny  while  living,  that  1  do  not  choose  to  continue  it  while 
dead." 


108  HENRY    LEE. 

HENRY  LEE, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

COLONEL  LEE  was  by  hirth  a  Virginian,  and  descended 
from  the  most  distinguished  branch  of  the  Lees  of  that 
state.  He  possessed  the  lofty  genius  of  his  family,  uni 
ted  to  invincible  courage  and  firmness,  and  all  the  noble 
enthusiasm  of  the  warrior.  General  Charles  Lee,  who 
was  beyond  question,  a  competent  judge  of  military  tal 
ent,  averred,  uthat  Henry  Lee  came  a  soldier  from  his 
mother's  womb.""  General  Greene  pronounced  him 
"The  Eye"  of  the  southern  army,  and  to  his  counsels 
gave  the  most  implicit,  constant,  and  unbounded  confi 
dence.  In  the  hour  of  difficulty,  was  danger  to  be  aver 
ted,  was  prompt  exertion  necessary  to  prevent  revolt, 
crush  insurrection,  cut  off  supplies,  harass  the  enemy, 
or  pursue  him  to  destruction,  to  no  one  did  he  so  often 
turn  as  to  Lee. 

But  his  ardour,  orilliancy,  and  daring  resolution,  con 
stituted  but  a  part  of  his  military  worth.  In  him  the 
fierce  impetuosity  of  youth  was  finely  blended  with  the 
higher  and  more  temperate  qualities  of  age.  If  he  had 
in  his  temperament,  something  of  the  electrical  fire  of 
Achilles,  it  was  ennobled  by  the  polished  dignity  of 
Hector,  and  repressed  and  moderated  by  the  wisdom  of 
Nestor. 

For  vigilance,  intelligence,  decision  of  character,  skill 
in  arms,  a  spirit  of  enterprise,  and  powers  of  combination, 
hft  Ifad  but  few  equals,  youthful  as  he  was,  in  the  armies 
of  his  country. 

As  an  officer  of  horse,  and  a  partisan  commander, 
perhaps  he  had  no  superior  on  earth. 

That  he  was  justly  entitled  to  this  encomium,  appears, 
as  well  from  the  extensive  catalogue  of  his  exploits,  as 
from  the  high  confidence  always  reposed  in  him  by  the 
commanding  officer  under  whom  he  served.  1  his  is 
true,  no  less  in  relation  to  Washington  than  Greene.  He 
was  the  intimate  friend  and  confidant  of  both.  The- 
sentiments  of  the  latter,  with  regard  to  him,  are  forci 
bly  expressed  in  the  following  extract  of  a  letter,  dated 
February  18th,  1782. 


FRANCIS  MARION.  209 

^Lieutenant-Colonel  Lee  retires,  for  a  time,  for  the 
recovery  of  his  health.  I  am  more  indebted  to  this 
officer  than  to  any  other,  for  the  advantages  gained  over 
the  enemy,  in  the  operations  of  the  last  campaign;  and 
should  be  wanting  in  gratitude,  not  to  acknowledge  the 
importance  of  his  services,  a  detail  of  which  is  his  best 
panegyric.''* 


FRANCIS  MARION, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

FRANCIS  MARION,  colonel  in  the  regular  service,  and 
brigadier-general  in  the  militia  of  South  Carolina,  was 
born  in  the  vicinity  of  Georgetown,  in  the  year  1733. 

To  portray  the  meteor-like  course  of  hardihood  and 
exploit,  traced  by  General  Marion  and  his  heroic  follow 
ers,  would  constitute  a  picture,  rich  in  admiration  and 
delight,  to  the  lovers  of  bravery  and  romantic  adventure. 
Never  was  an  officer  better  suited  to  the  times  in 
which  he  lived,  and  the  situation  in  which  it  was  his  for 
tune  to  act.  For  stratagems,  unlooked-for  e<  terprises 
against  the  enemy,  and  devices  for  concealing  his  own 
position  and  movements,  he  had  no  rival.  Never,  in  a 
single  instance,  was  he  overtaken  in  his  course,  or  dis 
covered  in  his  hiding-place.  Even  some  of  his  own 
party,  anxious  for  his  safety,  and  well  acquainted  with 
many  of  the  places  of  his  retreat,  have  sought  for  him 
whole  days  in  his  immediate  neighbourhood  without 
finding  him.  Suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  in  some  dis 
tant  point  he  would  again  appear,  pouncing  upon  his  en 
emy  like  the  eagle  upon  his  prey.  These  high  and  rare 
qualities  conducted  him  repeatedly  into  the  arms  of 
victory,  when  the  force  he  encountered  was  tenfold  the 
number  of  that  he  commanded. 

Young  Marion,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  entered  on  board 
a  vessel  bound  to  the  West  Indies,  whh  a  determination 
to  fit  himself  for  a  seafaring  life.  On  his  outward  pas 
sage,  the  vessel  was  upset  in  a  gale  of  wind,  when  the 

*Life  of  Greene. 

C2 


210  FRANCIS  MARIdN'. 

crew  took  to  their  boat  without  water  or  provisions,  it 
being  impracticable  to  save  any  of  either.  A  dog  jump 
ed  into  the  boat  with  the  crew,  and  upon  his  flesh,  eaten 
raw,  did  the  survivors  of  these  unfortunate  men  subsist 
for  seven  or  eight  days;  in  which  period  several  died  of 
hunger. 

Among  the  few  who  escaped  was  young  Marion.  Af 
ter  reaching  land,  Marion  relinquished  his  original  plan 
of  life, and  engaged  in  the  labours  of  agriculture.  In 
this  occupation  he  continued  until  1759,  when  he  be 
came  a  soldier,  and  was  appointed  a  lieutenant  in  a 
company  of  volunteers,  raised  for  an  expedition  against 
the  Cherokee  Indians,  commanded  by  Captain  William 
Moultrie,  (since  General  Moultrie.) 

As  soon  as  the  war  broke  out  between  the  colonies 
and  the  mother  country,  Marion  was  called  to  the  com 
mand  of  a  company  in  the  first  corps  raised  by  the  state 
of  South  Carolina.  He  was  soon  afterward  promoted  to 
a  majority  and  served  in  that  rank  under  Colonel  Moul 
trie,  in  his  intrepid  defence  of  Fort  Moultrie,  againt  the 
combined  attack  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton  and  Sir  H.  Par 
ker,  on  the  2d  of  June,  1776  He  was  afterward  placed 
at  the  head  of  a  regiment,  as  lieutenant  colonel  com 
mandant,  in  which  capacity  he  served  during  the  siege  of 
Charleston;  when,  having  fractured  his  leg  by  some  ac 
cident,  he  became  incapable  of  military  duty,  and,  for 
tunately  for  his  country,  escaped  the  captivity  to  which 
the  jrarrison  was,  in  the  sequel,  forced  to  submit. 

When  Charleston  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands.  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Marion  abandoned  his  state,  and  took  shelter 
in  North  Carolina.  The  moment  he  recovered  from 
the  fracture  of  his  leg,  he  engaged  in  preparing  the 
means  of  annoying  the  enemy,  then  in  the  flood-tide  of 
prosperity.  W  ith  sixteen  men  only,  he  crossed  the  San- 
tee,  and  commenced  that  daring  system  of  warfare 
which  so  much  annoyed  the  British  army. 

Colonel  Peter  Uorry.  in  his  life  of  General  Marion, 
gives  the  following  interesting  incident :  4*About  this  time 
we  received  a  flag  from  the  enemy  in  Georgetown,  South 
Carolina,  the  object  of  which  was  to  make  some  ar 
rangements  about  the  exchange  of  prisoners.  The  flag. 


FRANCIS  MARION.  211 

after  the  usual  ceremony  of  blindfolding,  was  conducted 
into  Marion's  encampment.  Having  heard  great  talk 
about  General  Marion,  his  fancy  had  naturally  enough 
sketched  out  for  him  some  stout  figure  of  a  warrior, 
as  O'Hara,  or  Cornwallis  himself,  of  martial  aspect 
and  flaming  regimentals.  But  what  was  his  surprise, 
when  led  into  Marion's  presence,  and  the  bandage  taken 
from  his  eyes,  he  beheld  in  our  hero  a  swarthy,  smoke- 
dried  little  man,  with  scarcely  enough  of  thread-bare 
homespun  to  cover  his  nakedness!  and,  instead  of  tall 
ranks  of  gay  dressed  soldiers,  a  handful  of  sunburnt, 
yellow-legged  militia-men;  some  roasting  potatoes,  and 
some  asleep,  with  their  black  firelocks  and  powder-horns 
lying  by  them  on  the  logs.  Having  recovered  a  little 
from  his  surprise,  he  presented  his  letter  to  General  Ma 
rion,  who  perused  it,  and  soon  settled  every  thing  to  his 
satisfaction. 

The  officer  took  up  his  hat  to  retire. 

"Oh  no!"  said  Marion,  "it  is  now  about  our  time  of 
dining;  and  I  hope,  sir,  you  will  give  us  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  to  dinner." 

At  the  mention  of  the  word  dinner  the  British  officer 
looked  around  him,  but,  to  his  great  mortification,  could 
see  no  sign  of  a  pot,  pan,  Dutch-oven,  or  any  other 
cooking  utensil  that  could  raise  the  spirits  of  a  hungry 
man. 

"Well,  Tom,"  said  the  General  to  one  of  his  men, 
"come,  give  us  our  dinner." 

The  dinner  to  which  he  alluded,  was  no  other  than  a 
heap  of  sweet  potatoes,  that  were  very  snugly  roasting 
under  the  embers,  and  which  Tom,  with  his  pine  stick 
poker,  soon  liberated  from  their  ashy  confinement ;  pinch 
ing  them  every  now  and  then  with  his  fingers,  especially 
the  big  ones,  to  see  whether  they  were  well  done  or  not. 
Then,  having  cleansed  them  of  the  ashes,  partly  by 
blowing  them  with  his  breath,  and  partfy  by  brushing 
them  with  the  sleeve  of  his  old  cotton  shirt,  he  piled 
some  of  the  best  on  a  large  piece  of  bark,  and  placed 
them  between  the  British  officer  and  Marion, on  the  trunk 
of  the  fallen  pine  on  which  they  sat. 


212  FRANCIS  MARION. 

"I  fear,  sir,"  said  the  General,  "our  dinner  will  not 
prove  so  palatable  to  you  as  I  could  wish;  but  it  is  the 
best  we  have." 

The  officer,  who  was  a  well-bred  man,  took  up  one  of 
the  potatoes,  and  affected  to  feed,  as  if  he  had  found  a 
great  dainty;  but  it  was  very  plain  that  he  ate  more 
from  good  manners  than  good  appetite. 

Presently  he  broke  out  into  a  hearty  laugh.  Marion 
looked  surprised.  "  I  beg  pardon,  General,"  said  he, 
"but  one  cannot,  you  know,  always  command  one's  con 
ceits  1  was  thinking  how  drolly  some  of  my  brother 
officers  would  look,  if  our  government  were  to  give  them 
such  a  bill  of  fare  as  this." 

"1  suppose,"  replied  Marion,  "  it  is  not  equal  to  their 
style  of  dining." 

"No,  indeed,"  quoth  the  officer^  "and  this,  I  imagine, 
is  one  of  your  accidental  Lent  dinners:  a  sort  of  ban-yan. 
In  general,  no  doubt,  you  live  a  great  deal  better" 

"Rather  worse,"  answered  the  general,  "for  often  we 
don't  get  enough  of  this." 

"Heavens!"  rejoined  the  officer,  "but  probably  what 
you  lose  in  mcalyo\\  make  up  in  ma//,  though  stinted  in 
provisions,  you  draw  noble  pay. 

''Not  a  cent,  sir,"  said  Marion,  "not  a  cent" 

"Heavens  and  earth!  then  you  must  be  in  a  bad  box. 
I  don't  see  General,  how  you  can  stand  it." 

"Why,  sir,"  replied  Marion,  with  a  smile  of  self-ap 
probation, "these  things  depend  on  feeling." 

The  Englishman  said,  "he  did  not  believe  it  would  be 
an  easy  matter  to  reconcile  his  feelings  to  a  soldier's  life 
on  General  Marion's  terms:  all  fighting,  no  pay,  and  no 
provisions  but  potatoes" 

"Why,  sir,"  answered  the  General,  "the  heart  is  all; 
and  when  this  is  much  interested,  a  man  can  do  any 
thing.  Mai»y  -<\  youth  would  think  it  hard  to  indent 
himself  a  slav^  for  fourteen  years.  But  let  him  be  over 
head  and  ears  in  love,  and  with  such  a  beauteous  sweet 
heart  as  Rachel, vi nd  he  will  think  no  more  of  fourteen 
years'  servitude  than  young  Jacob  did.  Well,  now  this 
is  exactly  my  case,  i  am  in  love;  and  my  sweetheart 
is  LIBERTY.  Be  that  heavenly  nymph  my  champion, and 


FRANCIS  MARION.  213 

these  woods  shall  have  charms  beyond  London  and 
Paris  in  slavery.  To  have  no  proud  monarch  driving 
over  me  with  his  gilt  coaches ;  nor  his  host  of  excise 
men  and  tax-gatherers  insulting  and  robbing;  but  to  he 
my  own  master,  my  own  prince  and  sovereign; gloriously 
preserving  mv  national  dignity,  and  pursuing  my  true 
happiness;  planting  my  vineyards,  and  eating  their  lus 
cious  fruit;  sowing  my  fields,  and  reaping  the  golden 
grain ;  and  seeing  millions  of  brothers  all  around  me, 
equally  free  and  happy  as  myself:— this,  sir,  is  what  I 
long  for." 

The  officer  replied  that,  both  as  a  man  and  a  Briton, 
he  must  certainly  subscribe  to  this  as  a  happy  state  of 
things. 

^Happy?  quoth  Marion,  'yes,  happy  indeed:  and  I 
would  rather  fight  for  such  blessings  for  my  country,  and 
feed  on  roots,  than  keep  aloof,  though  wallowing  in  all 
the  luxuries  of  Solomon.  For  now,  sir,  I  walk  the  soil 
that  gave  me  birth,  and  exult  in  the  thought  that  1  am 
not  unworthy  of  it.  I  look  upon  these  venerable  trees 
around  me,  and  feel  that  I  do  not  dishonour  them.  I 
think  of  my  own  sacred  rights,  and  rejoice  that  I  have 
not  basely  deserted  them.  And  when  I  look  forward  to 
the  long,  long  ages  of  posterity,  I  glory  in  the  thought 
that  I  am  fighting  their  battles.  The  children  of  distant 
generations  may  never  hear  my  name;  but  still  it  glad 
dens  my  heart  to  think  that  I  am  now  contending  for 
their  freedom,  with  all  its  countless  blessings.' 

I  looked  at  Marion  as  he  uttered  these  sentiments, 
and  fancied  t  felt  as  when  1  heard  the  last  words  of 
the  brave  De  Kalb.  The  Englishman  hung  his  honest 
head,  and  looked,  I  thought,  as  if  he  had  seen  the  up 
braiding  ghosts  of  his  illustrious  countrymen,  Sidney  and 
H  amd  en  . 

On  his  return  to  Georgetown,  he  was  asked  by  Col. 
Watson  why  he  looked  so  serious? 

'I  have  cause,  sir,'  said-he,  'to  look  so  serious.' 
'What!  has  General  Marion  refused  to  treat?' 
'No,  sir.' 

'Well,  then,  has  old  Washington  defeated  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  and  broke  up  our  army?' 


214  FRANCIS  MARION. 

'No, sir,  nor  that  neither;  but  worse.* 

'Ah!  what  can  be  worse?' 

'Why,  sir,  I  have  seen  an  American  general  and  his 
officers,  without  pay,  and  almost  without  clothes,  living  on 
roots  and  drinking  water;  and  all  for  LIBERTY!!  What 
chance  have  we  against  such  men?' 

It  is  said  Colonel  Watson  was  not  much  obliged  to 
him  for  his  speech.  But  the  young  officer  was  so  struck 
with  Marion's  sentiments,  that  he  never  rested  until  he 
threw  up  his  commission,  and  retired  from  the  service."4 

"Gen.  Marion,  whose  stature  was  diminutive,  and  his 
person  uncommonly  light,  rode,  when  in  service,  one  of 
the  fleetest  and  most  powerful  chargers  the  south  could 
produce.  When  in  fair  pursuit,  nothing  could  escape 
him, and  when  retreating,  nothing  could  overtake  him. 

Being  once  nearly  surrounded  by  a  party  of  British 
dragoons,  he  was  compelled  for  safety,  to  pass  into  a 
corn-field,  by  leaping  the  fence.  This  field  marked  with 
a  considerable  descent  of  surface,  had  been  in  part  a 
marsh.  Marion  entered  it  at  the  upper  side.  The 
dragoons  in  chase  leapt  the  fence  also,  and  were  but  a 
short  distance  behind  him.  So  completely  was  he  now 
in  their  power,  that  his  only  mode  of  escape  was  to  pass 
over  the  fence  on  the  lower  side.  But  here  lay  a  diffi 
culty  which  to  all  but  himself  appeared  insurmountable. 

To  drain  the  ground  of  its  superfluous  waters,  a  trench 
had  been  cut  around  this  part  of  the  field,  four  feet  wide 
and  of  the  same  depth.  Of  the  mud  and  clay  removed 
in  cutting  it,  a  bank  had  been  formed  on  its  inner  side, 
and  on  the  top  of  this  was  erected  the  fence.  The  ele 
vation  of  the  whole  amounted  to  more  than  seven  feet 
perpendicular  height ;  a  ditch  four  feet  in  width  running 
parallel  with  it  on  the  outside,  and  a  foot  or  more  of 
space  intervening  between  the  fence  and  the  ditch. 

The  dragoons,  acquainted  with  the  nature  and  extent 
of  this  obstacle,  and  considering  it  impossible  for  their 
enemy  to  pass  it,  pressed  towards  him  with  loud  shouts 
of  exultation  and  insult,  and  summoned  him  to  surrender 
or  perish  by  the  sword.  Regardless  of  their  rudeness 

"Am.  Biog.  Dictionary. 


HUGH  MERCER.  215 

and  empty  clamour,  and  inflexibly  determined  not  to  be 
come  their  prisoner,  Marion  spurred  his  horse  to  the 
charge.  The  noble  animal,  as  if  conscious  that  his 
master's  life  was  in  danger,  and  that  on  his  exertion  de 
pended  his  safety,  approached  the  barrier  in  his  finest 
style,  and  with  a  bound  that  was  almost  supernatural, 
cleared  the  fence  and  the  ditch,  and  recovered  himself 
without  injury  on  the  opposite  side. 

Marion  now  facing  his  pursuers,  who  had  halted  at 
the  fence  unable  to  pass  it,  discharged  his  pistols  at 
them  without  effect,  and  then  wheeling  his  horse,  and 
bidding  them  "good  morning,"  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
dashed  into  an  adjoining  thicket,  and  disappeared  in  an 
instant. 

General  Marion  was  a  native  of  South  Carolina;  and 
the  immediate  theatre  of  his  exploits,  was  a  large  sec 
tion  of  the  maratime  district  of  that  state,  around 
Georgetown.  The  peculiar  hardihood  of  his  constitu 
tion,  and  its  being  accommodated  to  a  warm  climate, 
and  a  low  marshy  country,  qualified  him  to  endure 
hardships  and  submit  to  exposures,  which,  in  that  sickly 
region,  few  other  men  would  have  been  competent  to 
sustain.  He  continued  his  undivided  efforts  until  the 
close  of  the  war,  and  lived  to  see  the  United  States  en 
rolled  among  the  free  and  independent  nations  of  the 
earth. 


HUGH  MERCER, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  MERCER  was  a  Scotchman  by  birth,  but  at  an 
.early  age  emigrated  to  Virginia,  where  he  continued  to 
reside,  and  became  a  practising  physician. 

General  Wilkinson  relates  the  following  interesting 
incidents  in  his  life: — 

"He  served  in  the  campaign  of  1755,  with  General 
Braddock,  and  was  wounded  through  the  shoulder  in 
the  unfortunate  action  near  Fort  du  Quesne:  unable  to 
retreat,  he  lay  down  under  cover  of  a  large  fallen 
tree,  and  in  the  pursuit,  an  Indian  leaped  upon  his  covert 
immediately  over  him,  and  after  looking  about  a  few 


216  HUGH  MERCER. 

seconds  for  the  direction  of  the  fugitives,  he  sprang  off 
without  observing  the  wounded  man  who  lay  at  his  feet. 
So  soon  as  the  Indians  had  killed  the  wounded,  scalped 
the  dead,  rifled  the  baggage,  and  cleared  the  field,  the 
unfortunate  Mercer  finding  himself  exceedingly  faint  and 
thirsty,  from  loss  of  blood,  crawled  to  an  adjacent  brook, 
and  after  drinking  plentifully,  found  himself  so  much  re 
freshed,  that  he  was  able  to  walk,  and  commenced  his 
return  by  the  road  the  army  had  advanced;  but  being 
without  subsistence,  and  more  than  a  hundred  inihjs 
from  any  Christian  settlement,  he  expected  to  die  of 
famine,  when  he  observed  a  rattlesnake  on  his  path, 
which  he  killed  and  contrived  to  skin,  and  throwing  it 
over  his  sound  shoulder,  he  subsisted  on  it  as  the  claims 
of  nature  urged,  until  he  reached  Fort  Cumberland,  on 
the  Potomac." 

General  Mercer,  at  the  commencement  of  the  revo] 
lution,  heartily  engaged  in  the  cause  of  American  liber 
ty.  He  was  one  of  those  gallant  spirits  who  adhered 
to  the  American  cause  ''in  times  that  tried  men's  souls," 
and  bravely  supported  the  Commander  in  chief  in  his 
disastrous  retreat  through  the  Jerseys. 

He  was  present  at  the  battle  of  Princeton,  where 
he  greatly  distinguished  himself,  and  was  mortally 
wounded. 

"On  the  night  of  the  1st  of  January,  General  Mercer, 
Colonel  C.  Biddle,  and  Doctor  Cochran  spent  the  eve 
ning  with  General  St.  Clair.  Fatigued  with  the  duties 
of  the  day,  I  had  lain  down  in  the  same  apartment,  and 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  the  turn  of  their  conver 
sation,  on  the  recent  promotion,  of  Captain  William 
Washington,  from  a  regiment  of  infantry  to  a  majority 
of  cavalry.  General  Mercer  expressed  his  disapproba 
tion  of  the  measure;  at  which  the  gentlemen  appeared 
surprised,  as  it  was  the  reward  of  acknowledged  gal 
lantry:  and  Mercer,  in  explantion  observed;  "We  are 
not  engaged  in  a  war  of  ambition:  if  it  had  been  so,  I 
should  never  have  accepted  a  commission  under  a  man 
who  had  not  seen  a  day's  service,  (alluding  to  the  great 
orator,  and  distinguished  patriot  Patrick  Henry;)  we 
serve  not  for  ourselves,  but  for  our  country,  and  every 


DANIEL  MORGAN.  217 

man  should  be  content  to  fill  the  place  in  which  he  can 
be  most  useful.  I  know  Washington  to  be  a  good  cap 
tain  of  infantry,  but  I  know  not  what  sort  of  a  major  of 
horse  he  may  make;  and  I  have  seen  good  captains 
make  indifferent  majors ;  for  my  own  part  my  views  in 
this  contest  are  confined  to  a  single  object,  that  is,  the 
success  of  the  cause,  and  God  can  witness  how  cheer 
fully  I  would  lay  down  my  life  to  secure  it." 

"In  General  Mercer  we  lost  a  chief,  who  for  educa 
tion,  experience,  talents,  disposition,  integrity,  and  patri 
otism,  was  second  to  no  man  but  the  commander  in  chief, 
and  was  qualified  to  fill  the  highest  trusts  of  the  coun 
try.  The  manner  in  which  he  was  wounded,  is  an  evi 
dence  of  the  excess  to  which  the  common  soldiery  are 
liable  in  the  heat  of  action,  particularly  when  irritated 
by  the  loss  of  favourite  officers.  Being  obstructed  when 
advancing  by  a  post  and  rail  fence,  in  front  of  the  or 
chard,  it  may  be  presumed  the  general  dismounted  vol 
untarily,  for  lie  was  on  foot  when  the  troops  gave  way; 
in  exerting  himself  to  rally  them  he  was  thrown  into  the 
rear,  and  perceiving  he  could  not  escape,  he  turned,  and 
surrendered,  but  was  instantly  knocked  down,  and  bay 
oneted  thirteen  times,  when  feigning  to  be  dead,  one  of 
his  murderers  exclaimed,  "Damn  him,  he  is  dead,  let  us 
leave  him."  After  the  retreat  of  the  enemy,  he  was 
conveyed  to  the  house  of  Thomas  Clark,  to  whom  he 
gave  this  account,  and  languished  until  the  12th,  when 
he  expired."* 


DANIEL  MORGAN, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  MORGAN  was  the  creator  of  his  own  fortune. 
Born  of  poor,  though  honest  parents,  he  enjoyed  none  of 
the  advantages  which  result  from  wealth  and  early  ed 
ucation.  But  his  was  a  spirit  that  would  not  tamely 
yield  to  difficulties. 

"He  was  born  in  New-Jersey,  where,  from  his  poverty 
and  low  condition,  he  had  been  a  day-labourer.  To 

^Wilkinson's  Memoirs. 

D  2 


218  1>ANIEL  MORGAN. 

early  education  and  breeding,  therefore, lie  owed  nothing. 
But  for  this  deficiency,  his  native  sagacity,  and  sound 
judgment,  and  his  intercourse  with  the  best  society, 
made  much  amends,  in  after  life. 

Enterprising  in  his  disposition,  even  now  he  removed 
to  Virginia,  in  1755,  with  a  hope  and  expectation  of  im 
proving  his  fortune.  Here  he  continued,  at  first,  his 
original  business  of  day-labour;  but  exchanged  it,  after 
ward,  for  the  employment  of  a  wagoner. 

His  military  novitiate  he  served  in  the  campaign  un 
der  the  unfortunate  Braddock.  The  rank  he  bore  is  not 
precisely  known.  It  must,  however,  have  been  humble; 
for,  in  consequence  of  imputed  contumely  towards  a  Brit 
ish  officer,  he  was  brought  to  the  halbert,  and  received 
the  inhuman  punishment  of  five  hundred  lashes:  or,  ac 
cording  to  his  own  statement,  of  four  hundred  and  nine 
ty-nine;  for  he  always  asserted,  that  the  drummer, 
charged  with  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  miscounted, 
and  jocularly  added,  "that  George  the  Third  was  stil! 
indebted  to  him  one  lash."  To  the  honour  of  Morgan, 
he  never  practically  remembered  this  savage  treatment., 
during  the  revolutionary  wrar.  Towards  the  British 
officers,  whom  the  fortune  of  battle  placed  within  his 
power,  his  conduct  was  humane,  mild,  and  gentlemanly. 

After  his  return  from  this  campaign,  so  inordinately 
was  he  addicted  to  quarrels  and  boxing  matches,  that 
the  village  of  Berrystown,  in  the -county  of  Frederick, 
which  constituted  the  chief  theatre  of  his  pugilistic 
exploits,  received,  from  this  circumstance,  the  name  of 
Battletown. 

In  these  combats,  although  frequently  overmatched  in 
personal  strength,  he  manifested  the  same  unyielding 
spirit  which  characterized  him  afterward,  in  his  military 
career.  When  worsted  by  his  antagonist,  lie  would 
pause,  for  a  time,  to  recruit  his  strength  ;  and  then  return 
to  the  contest,  again  and  again,  until  he  rarely  failed  to 
prove  victorious. 

Equally  marked  was  his  invincibility  of  spirit  in  ma- 
t.urer  age.  when  raised,  by  fortune  and  his  own  merit,  to 
a  higher  and  more  honourable  field  of  action.  Defeat 
in  battle  he  rarely  experienced;  but  when  he  did,  his 
retreat  was  sullen,  stern,  and  dangerous. 


DANIEL  MORGAN.  219 

The  commencement  of  the  American  revolution,  found 
Mr.  Vlorgan  married  and  cultivating  a  farm,  which,  by 
industry  and  economy,  he  had  been  enabled  to  pur 
chase,  in  the  county  of  Frederick. 

Placed  at  the  head  of  a  rifle  company,  raised  in  his 
neighbourhood,  in  1775,  he  marched  immediately  to  the 
American  head-quarters  in  Cambridge,  near  Boston. 

By  order  of  the  commander  in  chief,  he  soon  after 
ward  joined  in  the  expedition  against  Quebec:  and  was 
made  prisoner,  in  the  attempt  on  that  fortress,  where 
Arnold  was  wounded,  and  Montgomery  fell. 

During  the  assault,  his  daring  valour  and  persevering 
gallantry  attracted  the  notice  and  admiration  of  the 
enemy. 

The  assailing  column,  to  which  he  belonged,  was  led 
by  Major  Arnold.  When  that  officer  was  wounded, 
and  carried  from  the  ground,  Morgan  threw  himself  into 
the  lead;  and,  rushing  forward,  passed  the  first  and  se 
cond  barriers.  For  a  moment,  victory  appeared  cer 
tain.  But  the  fall  of  Montgomery,  closing  the  prospect, 
the  assailants  were  repulsed,  and  the  enterprise  aban 
doned. 

During  his  captivity,  Captain  Morgan  was  treated 
with  great  kindness,  and  not  a  little  distinction.  He  was 
repeatedly  visited,  in  confinement,  by  a  British  officer  of 
rank,  who  at  length  made  an  attempt  on  his  patriotism 
and  virtue,  by  offering  him  the  commission  and  emolu 
ments  of  colonel  in  the  British  army,  on  condition  that 
he  would  desert  the  American,  and  join  the  royal 
standard. 

Morgan  rejected  the  proposal  with  scorn:  and  re 
quested  the  courtly  and  corrupt  negotiator  "never  again 
to  insult  him  in  his  misfortunes,  by  an  offer  which 
plainly  implied  that  he  thought  him  a  villain."  The 
officer  withdrew,  and  did  not  again  recur  to  the  subject. 

On  being  exchanged,  Morgan  immediately  joined  the 
American  army,  and  received,  by  the  recommendation 
of  Gen.  Washington,  the  command  of  a  regiment. 

In  the  year  1777,  he  was  placed  at  the  head  of  a  se 
lect  rifle  corps,  with  which,  in  various  instances,  he 
acted  on  the  enemy  with  terrible  effect.  His  troops 


*220  DANIEL  MORGAN. 

were  considered  the  most  dangerous  in  the  American 
service.  To  confront  them,  in  the  field,  was  almost  cer 
tain  death  to  the  British  officers. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  capture  of  Burgoyne,  the  ex 
ertions  and  services  of  Colonel  Morgan,  and  his  rifle 
men,  were  beyond  all  praise.  Much  of  the  glory  of 
the  achievement  belonged  to  them.  Yet  so  gross  was 
the  injustice  of  General  Gates,  that  he  did  not  even 
mention  them  in  his  official  despatches.  His  reason  for 
this,  was  secret  and  dishonourable.  Shortly  after  the 
surrender  of  Burgoyne,  General  Gates  took  occasion  to 
hold  with  Morgan  a  private  conversation.  In  the  course 
of  this,  he  told  him  confidentially,  that  the  main  army 
was  exceedingly  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  Gen. 
Washington;  that  the  reputation  of  the  Commander 
in  chief  was  rapidly  declining;  and  that  several  officers 
of  great  worth  threatened  to  resign  unless  a  change 
were  produced  in  that  department. 

Colonel  Morgan,  fathoming  in  an  instant,  the  views  of 
his  commanding  officer,  sternly,  and  with  honest  indig 
nation,  replied,  "Sir,  I  have  one  favour  to  ask.  Never, 
again,  mention  to  me  this  hateful  subject;  under  no 
other  man,  but  General  Washington,  as  commander  in 
chief,  will  I  ever  serve." 

From  that  moment  ceased  the  intimacy  that  had  pre-~ 
viously  subsisted  between  him  and  Gen.  Gates. 

A  few  days  afterward,  the  general  gave  a  dinner  to 
the  principal  officers  of  the  British,  and  some  of  those  of 
the  American  army.  Morgan  was  not  invited.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening,  that  officer  found  it  necessary  to 
call  on  Geurra!  Gates,  on  official  business.  Being  intro 
duced  into  the  dining-room,  he  spoke  to  the  general, 
received  his  orders,  and  immediately  withdrew,  his  name 
unannounced.  Perceiving,  from  his  dress,  that  he  was 
of  high  rank,  the  British  officers  inquired  his  name.  Be 
ing  told  that  it  was  Colonel  Morgan,  commanding  the 
rifle  corps,  they  rose  from  the  table,  followed  him  into 
the  yard,  and  introduced  themselves  to  him,  with  many 
complimentary  and  flattering  expressions,  declaring 
that,  on  the  day  of  action,  they  had  very  severely  felt 
him  in  the  field. 


DANIEL  MORGAN.  221 

In  1780,  having  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  the 
army,  on  account  of  the  shattered  condition  of  his 
health,  he  retired  to  his  estate,  in  the  county  of  Freder 
ick;  and  remained  there  until  the  appointment  of  Gen, 
Gates  to  the  command  of  the  southern  army. 

Being  waited  on,  by  the  latter,  and  requested  to  ac 
company  him,  he  reminded  him,  in  expressions,  marked 
by  resentment,  of  the  unworthy  treatment  he  had  for 
merly  experienced  from  him,  in  return  for  the  important 
services,  which  he  did  not  hesitate  to  assert,  he  had 
rendered  him  in  his  operations  against  the  army  of  Gen. 
Burgoyne. 

Having  received  no  acknowledgment,  nor  even  ci 
vility,  for  aiding  to  decorate  him  with  laurels  in  the 
north,  he  frankly  declared,  that  there  were  no  considera 
tions,  except  of  a  public  nature,  that  could  induce  him 
to  co-operate,  in  his  campaigns  to  the  south.  "Motives 
of  public  good  might  influence  him;  because  his  country 
had  a  claim  on  him,  in  any  quarter,  where  he  could  pro 
mote  her  interest;  but  personal  attachment  must  not  be 
expected  to  exist,  where  he  had  experienced  nothing 
but  neglect  and  injustice." 

The  two  officers  parted,  mutually  dissatisfied;  the 
one,  on  account  of  past  treatment,  the  other  of  the  re 
cent  interview. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  afterward,  congress  hav 
ing  promoted  Colonel  Morgan  to  the  rank  of  brigadier 
general,  by  brevet,  with  a  view  to  avail  themselves  of 
his  services  in  the  south,  he  proceeded,  without  delay,  to 
join  the  army  of  General  Gates.  But  he  was  prevented 
from  serving,  any  length  of  time,  under  that  officer,  by 
his  defeat,  near  Camden,  before  his  arrival;  and  his 
being  soon  afterward  superseded  in  command  by  General 
Greene.* 

Soon  after  taking  command  of  the  southern  army, 
General  Greene  despatched  General  Morgan  with  four 
hundred  continentals,  under  Col.  Howard,  Col.  Wash 
ington's  corps  of  dragoons,  and  a  few  militia,  amounting 
in  all  to  about  six  hundred,  to  take  position  on  the  left 

*Life  of  Gen.  Greene. 


222  DANIEL  MORGAN, 

of  the  British  army,  then  lying  at  Winnsborough,  under 
Lord  Cornvvallis,  while  he  took  post  about  seventy  miles 
to  his  right.  This  judicious  disposition  excited  his  Lord 
ship's  apprehensions  for  the  safety  of  Ninety -Six  and 
Augusta,  British  posts,  which  he  considered  as  menaced 
by  the  movements  of  Morgan. 

Colonel  Tarleton,  with  a  strong  detachment,  amount 
ing  in  horse  and  foot  to  near  a  thousand  men,  was  im 
mediately  despatched  by  Cornwallis  to  the  protection  of 
Ninety-Six,  with  orders  to  bring  General  Morgan,  if 
possible,  to  battle.  To  the  ardent  temper  and  chival 
rous  disposition  of  the  British  colonel,  this  direction 
was  perfectly  congenial.  Greatly  superior  in  numbers, 
he  advanced  on  Morgan  with  a  menacing  aspect,  and 
compelled  him,  at  first,  to  fall  back  rapidly.  But  the 
retreat  of  the  American  commander  was  not  long  con 
tinued.  Irritated  by  pursuit,  reinforced  by  a  body  of 
militia,  and  reposing  great  confidence  in  the  spirit  and 
firmness  of  his  regular  troops,  he  halted  at  the  Cowpens, 
and  determined  to  gratify  his  adversary,  in  his  eagerness 
for  combat.  This  was  on  the  night  of  the  sixteenth  of 
Jan.  1781.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  succeeding  day, 
Tarleton,  being  apprised  of  the  situation  of  Morgan, 
pressed  towards  him  with  a  redoubled  rapidity,  lest,  by 
renewing  iiis  retreat,  he  should  again  elude  him. 

But  Morgan  now  had  other  thoughts  than  those  of 
flight.  Already  had  he,  for  several  days,  been  at  war 
with  himself  in  relation  to  his  conduct.  Glorying  in 
action,  his  spirit  recoiled  from  the  humiliation  of  retreat, 
and  his  resentment  was  roused  by  the  insolence  of  pur 
suit.  This  mental  conflict  becoming  more  intolerable 
to  him  than  disaster  or  death,  his  courage  triumphed 
perhaps  over  his  prudence,  and  he  resolved  upon  put 
ting  every  thing  to  the  hazard  of  the  sword. 

By  military  men,  who  have  studied  the  subject,  his 
disposition  for  battle  is  said  to  have  been  masterly.— 
Two  light  parties  of  militia  were  advanced  in  front,  with 
orders  to  feel  the  enemy  as  they  approached;  and  pre 
serving  a  desultory,  well-aimed  fire,  as  they  fell  back  to 
the  front  line,  to  range  with  it  and  renew  the  conflict. 
The  main  body  of  the  militia  composed  this  line,  with 


DANIEL  MORGAN.  223 

General  Pickens  at  its  head.  At  a  suitable  distance  in 
the  rear  of  the  first  line,  a  second  was  stationed,  com 
posed  of  the  continental  infantry  and  two  companies  of 
Virginia  militia,  commanded  by  Col.  Howard.  Wash 
ington's  cavalry,  reinforced  with  a  company  of  mounted 
militia,  armed  with  sabres,  was  held  in  reserve. 

Posting  himself,  then,  in  the  line  of  the  regulars,  he 
waited,  in  silence,  the  advance  of  the  enemy. 

Tarleton  coming  in  sight,  hastily  formed  his  disposi 
tion  for  battle,  and  commenced  the  assault.  Of  this 
conflict,  the  following  picture  is  from  the  pen  of  General 
Lee: — 

"The  American  light  parties  quickly  yielded,  fell 
back,  and  arrayed  with  Pickens.  The  enemy  shouting, 
rushed  forward  upon  the  front  line,  which  retained  its 
station,  and  poured  in  a  close  fire;  but  continuing  to  ad 
vance  with  the  bayonet  on  our  militia,  they  retired,  and 
gained,  with  haste,  the  second  line.  Here,  with  part  of 
the  corps,  Pickens  took  post  on  Howard's  right,  and  the 
rest  fled  to  their  horses,  probably  with  orders  to  remove 
them  to  a  further  distance.  Tarleton  pushed  forward, 
and  was  received  by  his  adversary  with  unshaken  firm 
ness.  The  contest  became  obstinate ;  and  each  party, 
animated  by  the  example  of  its  leader,  nobly  contended 
for  victory.  Our  line  maintained  itself  so  firmly,  as  to 
objige  the  enemy  to  order  up  his  reserve.  The  advance 
of  M'Arthur  reanimated  the  British  line,  which  again 
moved  forward,  and,  outstretching  our  front  endangered 
Colonel  Howard's  right.  This  officer  instantly  took 
measures  to  defend  his  flank,  by  directing  his  right  com 
pany  to  change  its  front;  but,  mistaking  this  order,  the 
company  fell  back;  upon  which  the  line  began  to  retire, 
and  General  Morgan  directed  it  to  retreat  to  the  cavalry. 
This  manoeuvre  being  performed  with  precision,  our 
flank  became  relieved,  and  the  new  position  was  assu 
med  with  promptitude.  Considering  this  retrograde 
movement  the  precursor  of  flight,  the  British  line  rush 
ed  on  with  impetuosity  and  disorder;  but  as  it  drew 
near,  Howard  faced  about,  and  gave  it  a  close  and  mur 
derous  fire.  Stunned  by  this  unexpected  shock,  the 
most  advanced  of  the  enemv  recoiled  in  confusion. 


224  DANIEL  MORGAN. 

Howard  seized  the  happy  moment,  and  followed  his  ad 
vantage  with  the  bayonet.  This  decisive  step  gave  us 
the  day.  The  reserve  having  been  brought  near  the 
line,  shared  in  the  destruction  of  our  fire,  and  presented 
no  rallying  point  to  the  fugitives.  A  part  of  the  ene 
my's  cavalry,  having  gained  our  rear,  fell  on  that  port  ion 
of  the  militia  who  had  retired  to  their  horses.  Wash 
ington  struck  at  them  with  his  dragoons,  and  drove  them 
before  him.  Thus,  by  a  simultaneous  effort,  the  infan 
try  and  cavalry  of  the  enemy  were  routed.  Morgan 
pressed  home  his  success,  and  the  pursuit  became  vig 
orous  and  general." 

"In  this  decisive  battle  we  lost  about  seventy  men, 
of  whom  twelve  only  were  killed.  The  British  infan 
try,  with  the  exception  of  the  baggage  guard,  were  near 
ly  all  killed  or  taken.  One  hundred,  including  ten  offi 
cers,  were  killed;  twenty-three  officers  and  five  hundred 
privates  were  taken.  The  artillery,  eight  hundred  mus 
kets,  two  standards,  thirty-five  baggage  wagons,  and 
one  hundred  dragoon  horses,  fell  into  our  possession." 

In  this  battle,  so  glorious  to  the  American  arms,  Tarle- 
ton  had  every  advantage,  in  point  of  ground,  cavalry, 
and  numbers,  aided  by  two  pieces  of  artillery. 

Soon  after  this  brilliant  exploit,  frequent  attacks  of 
the  rheumatism  compelled  General  [Morgan  to  retire 
from  the  army,  and  he  returned  to  his  seat  in  Frederick. 
Virginia,  where  he  continued  in  retirement,  until  the  in 
surrection  in  the  western  part  of  Pennsylvania,  in  1794. 
when  he  was  detached  by  the  executive  of  Virginia,  at 
the  head  of  the  militia  quota  of  that  state,  to  suppress 
it.  This  done,  he  returned  into  the  bosom  of  his  fami 
ly,  where  he  remained  until  death  closed  his  earthly 
career,  in  1799. 

"There  existed  in  the  character  of  General  Morgan  a 
singular  contradiction,  which  is  worthy  of  notice. 

Although,  in  battle,  no  man  was  ever  more  prodigal 
of  the  exposure  of  his  person  to  danger,  or  manifested 
a  more  deliberate  disregard  of  death,  yet,  so  strong  was 
his  love  of  life,  at  other  times,  that  he  has  been  frequent 
ly  heard  to  declare,  "he  would  agree  to  pass  half  his 
time  as  a  galley  slave,  rather  than  quit  this  world  for 
another." 


THOMAS    MIFFLIN.  225 

The  following  outline  of  his  person  and  character, 
is  from  the  pen  of  a  military  friend,  who  knew  him  in 
timately. 

"Brigadier-General  Morgan  was  stout  and  active,  six 
feet  in  height,  strong,  not  too  much  encumbered  with 
flesh,  and  was  exactly  fitted  for  the  toils  and  pomp  of 
war.  His  mind  was  discriminating  and  solid,  but  not 
comprehensive  and  combining.  His  manners  plain  and 
decorous,  neither  insinuating  nor  repulsive.  His  con 
versation  grave,  sententious,  and.  considerate,  unadorn 
ed,  and  uncaptivating.  He  reflected  deeply,  spoke 
little,  and  executed,  with  keen  perseverance,  whatever 
he  undertook.  He  was  indulgent,  in  his  military  com 
mand,  preferring  always  the  affections  of  his  troops,  to 
that  dread  and  awe  which  surround  the  rigid  discipli 
narian." 

A  considerable  time  before  his  death,  when  the  pres 
sure  of  infirmity  began  to  be  heavy,  he  became  seriously 
concerned  about  his  future  welfare.  From  that  period, 
his  chief  solace  lay  in  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
in  devotional  exercises.  He  died  in  the  belief  of  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  and  in  full  communion  with"  the 
Presbyterian  Church."* 


THOM4S  MIFFLIN, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

"THOMAS  MIFFLIN,  a  major  general  in  the  American 
army  during  the  revolutionary  war,  and  governor  of 
Pennsylvania,  was  born  in  the  year  1744,  of  parents 
who  were  Quakers.  His  education  was  intrusted  to 
the  care  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Smith,  with  whom  he  was 
connected  inhabits  of  cordial  intimacy  and  friendship, 
for  more  than  forty  years.  Active  and  zealous,  he 
engaged  early  in  opposition  to  the  measures  of  the 
British  parliament.  He  was  a  member  of  the  first  con 
gress  in  1774.  He  took  arms,  and  was  among  the  first 
officers  commissioned  on  the  organization  of  the  conti 
nental  army,  being  appointed  quarter-master  general  in 

*Life   of  Greene. 

E2 


"226  RICHARD  MONTGOMERV. 

August,  176.1).  For  this  offence  he  was  read  out  of  the 
society  of  Quakers.  In  1777,  he  was  very  useful  in  an 
imating  the  militia,  and  enkindling  the  spirit,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  damped.  His  sanguine  disposition 
and  his  activity,  rendered  him  insensible  to  the  value  of 
that  coolness  and  caution,  which  were  essential  to  the 
preservation  of  such  an  army,  as  was  then  under  the 
command  of  General  Washington.  In  1787.  he  was  a 
member  of  the  convention,  which  framed  the  constitution 
of  the  United  States,  and  his  name  is  affixed  to  that 
instrument.  In  October,  1788  he  succeeded  Franklin  as 
president  of  the  supreme  executive  council  of  Pennsyl 
vania,  in  which  station  he  continued  till  October, 
1700.  In  September,  a  constitution  for  this  state  was 
formed  by  a  convention,  in  which  he  presided,  and  he 
was  chosen  the  first  governor.  In  1794,  during  the  in 
surrection  in  Pennsylvania,  he  employed,  to  the  advan 
tage  of  his  country,  the  extraordinary  powers  of  elocu 
tion,  with  which  he  was  endowed.  The  imperfection  of 
thr  militia  laws  was  compensated  by  his  eloquence. 
He  made  a  circuit  through  the  lower  countries,  and,  at 
different  places,  publicly  addressed  the  militia  on  the 
crisis  in  the  affairs  of  their  country,  and  through  his  an 
imating  exhortations,  the  state  furnished  the  quota  re 
quired.  He  was  succeeded  in  the  office  of  governor  by 
Mr.M'Kean,  at  the  close  of  the  year  1799,  and  he  died 
at  Lancaster,  January  20,  1800,  in  the  57th  year  of  his 
age.  He  was  an  active  and  zealous  patriot,  who  had 
devoted  much  of  his  life  to  the  public  service."* 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  MONTGOMERY,  whose  premature  death  under  the 
walls  of  Quebec,  robbed  the  American  army  of  one  of 
its  brightest  ornaments,  was  born  in  the  north  of  Ire 
land,  in  the  year  1737. 

iJe  possessed  an  excellent  genius,  which  was  matured 
by  a  fine  education.  Entering  the  army  of  Great  Brit- 

*Am.  Biog.  Dictionary- 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY.  227 

ain,  he  successfully  fought  her  battles  with  Wolfe,  at 
Quebec,  in  1759,  and  on  the  very  spot  where  he  was 
doomed  to  fall,  when  fighting  against  her,  under  the 
banners  of  freedom.  After  his  return  to  England,  he 
quitted  his  regiment  in  1772,  though  in  a  fair  way  to 
preferment. 

He  had  imbibed  a  strong  attachment  to  America, 
and  viewing  it  as  the  rising  seat  of  science  and  freedom, 
resolved  upon  transferring  to  her  his  allegiance.  After 
his  arrival  in  this  country,  he  purchased  an  estate  in 
New  York,  about  one  hundred  miles  from  the  city,  and 
married  a  daughter  of  Judge  Livingston.  He  now  con 
sidered  himself  as  an  American. 

Connected  with  one  of  the  first  families  in  New  York, 
happy  in  the  highest  enjoyment  of  domestic  felicity,  he 
was  led  by  principle  to  quit  the  occupations  of  rural  life; 
and  animated  with  an  ardent  zeal  for  the  cause  of  hu 
man  nature,  the  liberties  of  mankind,  and  the  glory  of 
America,  both  his  active  life,  and  his  heroic  death,  veri 
fied  his  last  expression  to  his  amiable  lady — ^You  shall 
never  blush,  for  your  Montgomery" 

At  the  comnuncement  of  the  struggle  with  Great 
Britain,  the  command  of  the  continental  forces  in  the 
northern  department  was  intrusted  to  him  and  General 
Schuyler,  in  the  fall  of  1775. 

" While  the  British  army  was  cooped  up  in  Boston, 
without  (he  power  of  much  annoyance  to  tin1  surround 
ing  country,  the  congress  conceived  the  design  of  send 
ing  a  force  into  Canada,  for  the  purpose  of  putting  a 
stop  to  the  preparations  which  it  was  known  that  Gen. 
Carleton,  the  governor  of  that  province,  was  making,  for 
aiding  Siis  majesty's  forces  on  this  side  of  the  Lakes.  For 
this  purpose,  Generals  Schuyler  and  iVJontgomer^,  with 
two  regiments  of  New  York  militia,  and  a  bo  iy  of  Ne.v- 
Englandim  n,  amounting  in  the  whole  to  about  two  thou 
sand  men,  were  ordered  to  move  towards  Ticonderoga, 
which  had  remained  in  possession  of  the  Americans, 
since  the  expedition  of  <  olonels  Arnold  and  Allen. 
General  Schuyler  being  detained  at  Albany,  Montgome 
ry  proceeded  alone  to  Crown  Point,  where  he  received 
intelligence  that  several  armed  vessels,  which  lay  at  the 


228  RICHARD  MONTGOMERY. 

fort  of  St.  John's,  were  preparing  to  enter  the  Lake 
Champlain,  for  the  purpose  ot  impeding  the  passage  of 
his  troops.  This  determined  him,  though  not  more  than 
half  of  his  troops  had  arrived,  to  cross  over  to  the  Isle 
anx  JYoix,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Sorel,  and  thus  block 
ade  the  vessels  which  lay  in  that  river.  He  had  scarce 
ly  succeeded  in  this  design,  before  he  was  joined  by 
General  Schuyler;  and  it  was  determined,  after  publish 
ing  a  declaration  to  the  Canadians,  setting  forth  their 
friendly  intentions  towards  them,  to  proceed  immediately 
against  the  fort  of  St.  John's.  With  this  view,  they  pro 
ceeded  with  their  batteaux  for  a  few  miles  down  the 
Sorel,  and  landed,  on  a  swampy  ground,  through  which 
with  great  difficulty  thev  marched  to  within  two  miles 
of  the  tort.  Here  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  a 
party  of  Indians,  which,  after  a  smart  skirmish,  they  dis 
persed  with  a  trifling  loss,  and  continued  their  march; 
but  upon  coming  within  view  of  the  fort,  and  seeing  its 
strength,  General  Schuyler,  whose  force  did  not  amount 
to  a  thousand  men,  thought  it  prudent  to  return  to  the 
Isle  aux  Noix,  without  attempting  its  reduction.  The 
general,  being  then  obliged  to  return  to  Albany,  to  settle 
a  treatry  with  the  Indians,  left  the  command  solely  to 
Montgomery;  and  never  was  there  a  general  better 
qualified  for  the  duties  which  now  devolved  upon  him. 
It  was  absolutely  necessary,  before  he  could  go  against 
Montreal,  that  the  fort  of  St.  John's  should  be  reduced. 
It  was  well  provided, and  strongly  garrisoned. 

The  supply  of  ammunition  with  which  Gen.  Mont 
gomery  was  provided  was  much  too  small  to  render  an 
immediate  siege  of  St.  John's  prudent;  and  he  would 
probably  have  been  compelled  to  remain  inactive  until 
too  late  in  the  season  to  effect  his  object,  but  for  the  in 
formation  of  some  Canadians,  that  the  little  fortress  of 
Cliamblcc .which  was  but  feebly  garrisoned,  contained 
a  good  store  of  that  article.  He  accordingly  made 
himself  master  of  that  place,  and,  to  his  great  satisfac 
tion,  found  one  hundred  and  twenty  barrels  of  powder, 
besides  a  large  quantity  of  other  military  stores  and 
provisions.  The  expedition  against  this  fortress  was 
conducted  by  Majors  Brown  and  Livingston.  They 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY.  229 

found  here  the  standard  of  the  7th  regiment,  which  was 
immediately  sent  to  the  congress. 

General  Montgomery  being  thus  enabled  to  carry  on 
the  siege  of  St.  John's,  proceeded  to  erect  his  works,  and 
to  prepare  for  a  general  assault.  General  Carleton,  in 
the  mean  time,  hearing  the  situation  of  St.  John's,  pre 
pared  to  raise  a  force  for  its  relief.  He  had  posted 
Colonel  JVTLean,  with  a  regiment  of  Scotch  emigrants, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel ;  and  having  raised  about  a 
thousand  men  at  Montreal,  he  attempted  to  cross  at 
Longueil  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  junction,  and 
marching  for  the  relief  of  St.  John's.  But  Col.  Ward, 
who  was  stationed  at  Longueil,  with  three  hundred 
Green  Mountain  Boys,  and  a  small  piece  of  artillery, 
kept  up  so  warm  a  fire  upon  their  boats,  that  the  general 
was  glad  to  return  to  Montreal. 

When  the  news  of  this  repulse  reached  Montgomery, 
he  sent  a  flag  to  Major  Preston,  who  commanded  the 
besieged  fortress,  summoning  him  to  surrender;  as  all 
hope  of  relief  was  cut  off  by  Carleton's  repulse,  and  a 
farther  resistance  could  only  lead  to  a  useless  waste  of 
lives.  Major  Preston  solicited  a  few  days  to  consider 
the  proposal,  being  still  impressed  with  the  hope  that 
General  Carleton  might  be  able  to  come  to  his  assist 
ance:  but  upon  his  request  being  refused,  he  accepted 
the  honourable  terms  of  capitulation,  which  General 
Montgomery  offered  to  him,  and  surrendered  his  garri 
son  prisoners  of  war.  The  British  officers  spoke  highly 
of  the  polite  regard  and  attention  shown  to  them  by 
Montgomery,  who  permitted  them  to  wear  their  swords, 
and  to  take  off  all  their  baggage  and  effects.  The  fort 
surrendered  on  the  3d  of  November."* 

On  the  12th  he  took  Montreal,  the  British  General 
Carleton  having  abandoned  the  town  to  its  fate,  and 
made  his  escape  down  the  river,  in  the  night,  in  a  small 
canoe  with  muffled  oars.  Montgomery  thus  obtained 
possession  of  all  the  naval  force  of  the  river,  consisting 
of  eleven  armed  vessels. 

"Many  circumstances  combined  to  render  the  situa 
tion  of  Gen.  Montgomery,  though  a  conqueror,  extremely 

*AlIen's  Revolution. 


230  RICHARD  MONTGOMERY. 

unpleasant.  The  season  was  far  advanced,  and  the 
severities  of  the  climate  induced  many  of  his  men  to  de 
sert — the  time  for  which  many  others  were  enlisted  was 
about  to  expire;  and  few  were  willing  to  encounter  the 
hardships  of  a  long  march  through  the  deep  snows  of 
December.  Nothing  but  personal  attachment  to  the 
noble  character  ol  the  commander  could  have  kept  a 
single  regiment  together.  After  new  clothing  all  his 
men  at  Montreal,  and  rendering  them  in  other  respects 
as  comfortable  as  the  magazines  there  would  admit  of; 
and  having  taken  the  necessary  measures  to  ensure  a 
supply  of  provisions  on  the  march,  the  general  pushed 
on  through  every  difficulty,  and  joined  Arnold,  who  had 
marched  through  the  wilderness,  and  arrived  before 
Quebec  a  short  time  previous,  on  the  1st  of  December. 
His  appearance  was  a  source  of  great  joy  to  the  Colo- 
neFs  troops,  as  he  had  not  forgotten  to  bring  with  him  a 
store  of  such  supplies  as  he  knew  them  to  want. 

Montgomery  lost  no  time  after  his  arrival  in  preparing 
for  an  immediate  attack.  The  whole  of  his  force  did 
not  amount  to  more  than  the  troops  of  the  garrison;  but 
he  attempted,  by  assuming  an  appearance  of  greater 
strength  to  weaken  the  confidence  of  the  latter,  and 
thereby  accomplish  his  object  without  bloodshed.— 
For  this  purpose,  on  the  5th  of  December,  he  addressed 
a  letter  to  the  governor,  in  which  he  urged  him  by  every 
argument  calculated  to  produce  an  effect  upon  his  hu 
manity  or  his  fears,  to  spare  his  garrison  the  dreadful 
consequences  of  a  storm  by  an  immediate  surrender. 
General  Carleton,  however,  was  too  old  a  soldier  to  be 
deceived  by  appearances — he  knew  the  difficulties  un 
der  which  Montgomery  laboured,  and  was  convinced 
that  if  his  garrison  could  hold  out  for  a  Jew  days,  the 
climate  would  compel  the  provincials  to  abandon  the 
sie<ie.  Montgomery's  messenger  was  fired  at,  and  all 
communication  forbidden.  In  this  situation  Montgome 
ry  commenced  a  bombardment  from  live  small  mortars, 
whirh  he  kept  up  for  several  daysr  with  the  hope  of 
throwing  the  garrison  into  confusion.  But  it  seemed  to 
produce  no  effect — a  battery  of  six  guns  was  next  open 
ed  upon  them,  at  the  distance  of  seven  hundred  yards, 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY, 

tyith  no  better  success.  The  garrison  remained  insensi 
ble  to  any  impressions  of  alarm. 

General  Montgomery  now  found  himself  under  circum 
stances  much  more  delicate  and  embarrassing,  than 
those  which  had,  sixteen  years  before,  environed  the 
hero  Wolfe  at  the  same  spot.  Several  feet  of  sn«»\v 
covered  the  ground — his  troops  had  undergone  every 
hardship,  that  it  was  possible  to  suffer,  and  it  seemed 
now  almost  impossible  for  human  nature  to  endure 
more.  He  had  arrived  before  Quebec  a  conqueror,  his 
fame  had  reached  his  countrymen  and  his  commander 
at  Cambridge,  and  they  would  expect  a  continuance  of 
success.  He  remembered  moreover  his  parting  words 
to  the  beloved  partner  of  his  bosom — "you  shall  never 
blush  for  your  Montgomery,"  he  had  said,  when  he  gave 
her  the  last  embrace.  While  these  feelings  and  recol 
lections  were  alternately  elevating  and  depressing 
his  noble  spirit,  he  made  a  desperate  resolution  to  at 
tempt  the  enemy's  works  by  escalade.  And  such  was 
the  skill  with  which  his  plan  had  been  formed,  that  no 
doubt  can  remain,  that  he  would  ultimately  have  suc 
ceeded,  had  not  his  whole  scheme  been  communicated 
to  the  garrison  by  some,  scoundrels  who  deserted  him  at 
this  critical  moment. 

Montgomery  soon  perceived  that  the  garrison  were 
prepared ;  and  it  became  necessary  to  change  his  whole 
plan  of  operations.  Having  disposed  his  army  into  four 
divisions,  two  of  which  he  intended  should  make  feigned 
attacks,  while  Arnold  and  himself  should  be  engaged 
in  real  attacks  upon  two  opposite  sides,  before  daylight 
on  the  31st  of  December,  in  a  thick  fall  of  snow,  Mont 
gomery  advanced  at  the  head  of  the  New-Yorkers. 
Here  again  his  fate  resembled  Wolfe's,  for  before  he 
could  reach  the  place  from  whence  he  intended  to  com- 
me  ce  the  attack,  the  signal  had  been  given  through 
mistake,  and  the  whole  garrison  were  alarmed.  It  was 
too  late  to  make  another  change  in  the  plan  of  at 
tack,  and  Montgomery  pushed  on — he  was  compelled 
to  advance  through  a  narrow  path  between  a  precipice 
and  overhanging  rocks — he  had  seized  and  passed  the 
first  barrier,  and  was  boldly  advancing  towards  the 


232  1UCHARD  MONTGOMERY. 

second,  with  a  few  of  his  bravest  companions,  when  a 
discharge  of  grape  shot  from  the  cannon  that  were  pla 
ced  there,  stopped  the  progress  of  this  brave  and  excel 
lent  officer,  and  destroyed  the  hopes  of  the  enterprise. 
Upon  the  fall  of  the  general,  the  officer  upon  whom  the 
command  of  his  party  devolved,  retired  without  making 
any  attempt  to  pursue  the  advantages  already  gained. 
Some  of  his  bravest  officers  had  shared  the  glorious  des 
tiny  of  Montgomery,  or  Quebec  must  have  fallen  to  the 
united  efforts  of  this  party  and  that  under  Arnold."* 

In  accordance  with  the  concerted  plan4  "Arnold  ad 
vanced  with  the  utmost  intrepidity  against  the  battery 
in  the  other  quarter  of  the  city.  The  alarm  was  imme 
diately  given,  and  the  fire  on  his  flank- commenced, 
which,  however,  did  not  prove  very  destructive.  As 
he  approached  the  barrier  he  received  a  musket-ball  in 
the  leg,  which  shattered  the  bone,  and  was  carried  off 
the  field  to  the  hospital.  Morgan  rushed  forward  to 
the  battery,  at  the  head  of  his  company,  and  received 
from  one  of  the  pieces,  almost  at  its  mouth,  a  discharge 
of  grape  shot,  which  killed  only  one  man.  A  few  ri 
fles  were  immediately  fired  into  the  embrazures,  by 
which  a  British  soldier  was  wounded  in  the  head,  and 
the  barricade  being  instantly  mounted,  with  the  aid  of 
ladders,  brought  by  his  men  on  their  shoulders,  the  bat 
tery  was  deserted  without  discharging  the  other  gun. 
The  captain  of  the  guard,  with  the  greater  number  of 
his  men,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans,  and  the 
others  made  their  escape. 

Morgan  formed  the  troops,  consisting  of  his  own  com 
pany,  and  a  few  bold  individuals  who  had  pressed  for 
ward  from  other  parts  of  the  division,  in  the  streets 
within  the  barrier;  and  took  into  custody  several  Eng 
lish  and  Canadian  burghers;  but  his  situation  soon  be 
came  extremely  critical.  He  was  not  followed  by  the 
main  body  of  the  division;  he  had  no  guide,  and  was, 
himself,  totally  ignorant  of  the  situation  of  the  town. 
It  was  yet  dark;  and  he  had  not  the  slightest  knowl 
edge  of  the  course  to  be  pursued,  or  of  the  defences  to 

*Alleo's  Revolution. 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY.  233 

be  encountered.     Thus  circumstanced,  it  was  thought 
unadvisable  to  advance  further. 

As  the  glow,  produced  by  immense  exertion,  gave  way 
to  the  cold,  which  was  so  intense  that  they  were  cover 
ed  with  icicles,  and  as  the  ardour,  excited  by  action, 
subsided,  when  they  were  no  longer  engaged,  even  this 
daring  party  became  less  animated.  Whilst  waiting  in 
total  ignorance  of  the  fate  of  the  residue  of  the  divi 
sion,  the  darkness-»of  the  night,  the  fury  of  the  storm, 
the  scattering  fire  still  kept  up  by  the  enemy,  principal 
ly  in  their  rear,  the  paucity  of  their  numbers,  and  the 
uncertainty  concerning  their  future  operations,  visibly 
affected  them.  It  was,  after  some  deliberation,  deter 
mined  to  maintain  their  ground,  while  Morgan  should 
return  to  the  barrier  they  had  passed,  for  the  purpose 
of  bringing  up  the  troops  who  were  supposed  to  be  still 
on  the  other  side  of  it. 

They  were  soon  joined  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Greene 
and  Majors  Bigelow  and  Meiggs,  with  several  fragments 
of  companies,  so  as  to  constitute,  altogether,  about  two 
hundred  men. 

As  the  light  of  day  began  to  appear,  this  small  but 
gallant  parly  was  again  formed,  with  Morgan's  company 
in  front;  and  with  one  voice,  they  loudly  called  on  him 
to  lead  them  against  the  second  barrier,  which  was  now 
known  to  be  less  than  forty  paces  from  them,  though 
concealed  by  an  angle  of  the  street  from  their  immediate 
view.  Seizing  the  few  ladders  brought  with  them,  they' 
again  rushed  on  to  the  charge,  and  on  turning  the  angle, 
were  hailed  by  captain  or  lieutenant  Anderson,  who 
was  just  issuing  with  a  body  of  troops  through  the  gate 
of  the  barricade,  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  the  Amer 
icans,  whom  he  had  expected  to  find  dispersed,  and 
probably  plundering  the  town.  Morgan,  who  was  in 
the  front,  answered  his  challenge  by  a  ball  through  his 
head,  and  as  he  fell,  he  was  drawn  within  the  barricade 
and  the  gate  closed  upon  the  assailants,  who  received 
at  the  same  instant  a  tremendous  fire  frolri  the  windows 
overlooking  the  barrier,  and  from  the  port-holes  through 
it.  Ladders  were  immediately  placed  against  the  barri 
cade,  and  for  some  time  a  fierce  contest  was  maintained. 


234  RICHARD  MONTGOMERY. 

which,  on  the  part  of  the  assailants,  was  also  a  bloody 
one.     A  few  of  the  holder,  among  the  front  files,  ascend 
ed  the  ladders  under  this  deadly  fire;  and  saw  on  the 
other  side   of  the    barricade,  double   ranks  of  soldiers, 
who,  with  their  muskets  planted  on  the  ground,  present 
ed  hedges  of  bayonets  to  receive  them  if  they    should 
attempt  to  leap  to  the  earth.     Exposed   thus,  in  a  nar 
row  street,  to  a  most  galling  fire,  many  of  the  assailants 
threw  themselves  into   the  stone   houses  on  each  side, 
which  afforded  them  a  shelter  both  from  the  storm,  and 
from  the  enemy;  and   through  the   windows   of  which 
they  kept  up  an   irregular  and  not   very    effective  fire. 
One    circumstance    which  greatly  contributed  to  the  ir 
resolution,  now  displaying  itself,  was  that  scarcely  more 
than  one  in  ten  of  their  fire-arms  could  be  used.     Not 
withstanding   the    precaution    of   tying    handkerchiefs 
around  the   locks,  the  violence  of  the  storm  had  totally 
unfitted  them  for  service.     Morgan  soon  found  himst  If 
at  the  barrier  with  only  a  few  officers  and  a  small  num 
ber  of  soldiers.     Yet  he  could  not  prevail  on  himself  to 
relinquish  the  enterprise.     With  a  voice  louder  than  the 
tempest,  he  called  on  those  who  were  sheltered  in  the 
houses,  to  come  forth  and  scale  the  barrier; but  he  call 
ed  in  vain;  neither   exhortations  nor  reproaches  could 
draw  them  in  sufficient  numbers  to  the  point  of  attack. 
Being  at  length  compelled  to  relinquish  all  hope  of  suc 
cess,  he  ordered  the  few  brave  men  who  still  adhered  to 
him,  to  save  themselves  in  the  houses,  while  he,  accom 
panied  only  by   Lieut.  Heth,  returned   towards  the  first 
barrier,  in  order  to  concert  with  the   field  officers  some 
plan  for  drawing  off  the  troops.     He  soon  met  Majors 
Bigelow  and  Meiggs,  to  whom  he  proposed  an  immedi 
ate  retreat    by  the   same  route  along  which    they   had 
marched  to  the  attack.     This  proposition  was  assented 
to,  and  Lieut.  Heth  was  despatched  to  draw  the  troops 
from  their  present  situation."* 

"In  Montgomery,  the  Americans  lost  one  of  the  bra 
vest  and  most  accomplished  generals  that  ever  led  an 
army  to  the  field.  But  he  was  not  more  illustrious  for 

^Marshall's  Washington. 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY.  235 

his  skill  and  courage  as  an  officer  than  he  was  estima 
ble  for  his  private  virtues.  He  possessed  a  mind  adorn 
ed  with  every  accomplishment,  and  a  person  in  which 
every  manly  grace  shone  with  conspicuous  lustre.  His 
was 

"A combination,  and  a  form  indeed, 
Where  every  God  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man." 

General  Montgomery  had  borne  the  commission  of  a 
Colonel  in  the  war  of  1759,  and  was  fighting  by  the 
side  of  Wolfe,  when  that  Spartan  hero  fell.  His  bra 
very  and  his  worth  were  then  acknowledged  by  the 
British  army,,  and  they  were  proud  to  regard  him  as  a 
friend  and  brother;  but  notwithstanding  the  many  pro 
fessions  of  attachment  and  esteem  for  his  character, 
his  body  would  have  been  thrown  with  the  heap  of 
slain,  uncoffined  and  unmarked,  into  the  same  indiscrim 
inate  pit,  but  for  the  lieutenant-governor;  who, urged  by 
the  solicitations  of  the  lady  whom  he  afterward  marri 
ed,  reluctantly  procured  a  coffin  of  the  roughest  sort, 
and  thus  apart  from  the  rest,  buried  his  former  friend 
and  companion  in  arms.  From  this  spot,  after  moulder 
ing  in  the  grave  for  more  than  forty-two  years,  the  bones 
of  this  gallant  soldier  were  removed  by  his  fellow-citi- 
izens  of  New-York,  and  deposited  in  a  tomb  more  wor 
thy  of  him. 

The  resemblance  in  the  character,  conduct  and  desti 
ny  of  Wolfe  and  Montgomery,  is  too  striking  to  be  pas 
sed  over  without  a  remark.  Montgomery  had  been  in 
some  measure  the  pupil  of  Wolfe;  under  his  guidance 
he  had  learned  the  first  rudiments  of  war;  and  in  his 
career  of  glory,  he  saw  an  example  worthy  of  imitation. 
We  have  seen  the  difficulties  under  which  Wolfe  had  to 
struggle,  and  we  have  seen  the  noble  daring  which  led 
him,  perhaps  against  the  suggestions  of  prudence,  to  at 
tempt  to  surmount  them.  He  lived,  as  he  expressed 
himself,  but  to  fight  Montcalm  on  equal  ground — this 
accomplished  he  had  consummated  the  only  object  of 
his  existence,  and  died  "content"  Wolfe  was  fighting 
for  his  king,  under  the  orders  of  his  ministry,  and  here 
lies  the  striking  difference  in  the  lives  and  fortunes  of 


236  RICHARD  MONTGOMERY. 

these  heroes.  Montgomery  entered  on  the  expedition 
with  the  name  of  rebel.  He  ventured  his  fame,  his 
character,  his  life,  in  the  service  of  revolted  colonies — 
hut  it  was  to  secure  to  these  colonies  the  enjoyment  of 
liberty  under  the  rights  of  the  constitution.  For  this  he 
sacrificed  the  tender  endearments  of  conjugal  felicity, 
and  at  the  head  of  an  undisciplined  body  of  men,  pla 
ced  himself  in  opposition  to  a  veteran  general.  The 
skill  which  he  displayed  was  equal  to  the  fortitude  which 
such  an  enterprise  demanded.  He  had  not  only  to 
contend  against  a  formidable  enemy,  but  against  the 
severities  of  a  climate  to  which  none  of  his  men  were 
accustomed.  His  having  in  one  night  constructed  a 
battery  of  ice,  \vi\\  at  once  show  his  military  skill  and  in 
dustry,  and  the  intense  coldness  of  the  climate.  With  a 
discontented,  starving,  and  mutinous  army,  he  pushed 
boldly  forward  in  search  of  that  victory  which  had 
cheered  the  parting  moments  of  Wolfe.  But  destiny 
had  marked  a  different  course  for  him;  death  arrested 
his  steps  too  soon.  He  was  cut  off  in  the  onset,  and 
none  was  left  to  follow  the  plan  which  he  had  marked 
out — his  last  sigh  was  embittered  by  anticipated  defeat. 
Victory  brings  its  own  lustre;  and  when  she  entwines 
her  garlands  around  the  head  of  an  insensate  corpse, 
they  seem  from  that  single  circumstance  to  display  a 
lovelier  verdure:  death  gives  a  more  touching  interest, 
a  deeper  pathos  to  the  fate  of  the  hero — the  million  will 
admire  and  posterity  will  always  applaud.  But  how 
does  the  tragedy  deepen  when  the  hero  expires  on  the 
field  of  battle,  surrounded  not  by  the  beams  of  victory, 
but  by  the  darkness  of  defeat.  He  sees  nothing  to 
cheer  his  parting  moments — nothing  in  anticipation  but 
public  obloquy,  and  that  reproach  which  seems  insepa 
rable  from  want  of  success.  This  reproach  and  this  ob 
loquy  did  pursue  the  shade  of  Montgomery:  his  heroism 
was  stigmatized  with  the  character  of  rashness — of  in 
sanity.  But  let  it  be  remembered,  that  nothing  but  the 
difference  of  a  few  hours  in  the  term  of  his  life  prevented 
that  victory  which  consecrated  the  same  rashness  in 
Wolfe,  and  impressed  upon  it  the  character  of  glory. 


RICHARD  MONTGOMERY.  237 

The  turn  of  a  die  decides  the  fate  of  an  army;  and 
the  same  thing  is  desperation  in  one,  or  the  highest 
effort  of  military  skill  in  another,  according  as  defeat  or 
success  shall  attend  the  enterprise.  Posterity,  that 
looks  at  the  records  of  history  unbiassed,  will  observe 
no  difference  in  the  merits  of  Wolfe  and  Montgomery. 
They  were  both  heroes — both  entitled  to  the  chaplct  of 
immortal  fame."* 

To  express  the  high  sense  entertained  by  his  country 
of  his  services,  congress  directed  a  monument  of  white 
marble  to  be  erected,  with  the  following  inscription; 
which  was  placed  in  front  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  New 
York: 

THIS    MONUMENT 

was  erected  by  order  of 
Congress,  25th  January,  1776, 

to  transmit  to  posterity 
a  grateful  remembrance  of  the 

PATRIOTISM,  CONDUCT,  ENTERPRISE 
AND    PERSEVERANCE 

of  Major-General 
RICHARD  MONTGOMERY, 

who,  after  a  series  of  successes, 
amidst  the  most  discour 
aging  difficulties, 
fell  in  the  attack  on 

QUEBEC, 

31st  December,  1775; 
aged  39  years. 

The  remains  of  General  Montgomery,  after  resting  42 
years  at  Quebec,  by  the  resolve  of  the  state  of  N.  York, 
were  brought  to  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the  8th  of 
July,  1818,  and  deposted  with  ample  form,  and  grateful 
ceremonies,  near  the  aforesaid  monument  in  St.  Paul's 
church. 

-^American  Revolution. 


238  WILLIAM   MOULfRIE. 


WILLIAM  MOULTRIE, 

Major  General  in  the  American  Army. 

THIS  gentleman  was  a  citizen  of  South  Carolina,  and 
was  a  soldier  from  an  early  period  of  his  life.  At  the 
commencement  of  the  revolution,  he  was  among  the 
foremost  to  assert  the  liberties  of  his  country;  and  bra 
ved  every  danger  to  redress  her  wrongs. 

The  scene  of  his  brilliant  operations  was  in  South 
Carolina,  and  his  gallant  defence  of  Sullivan's  island, 
crowned  him  with  immortality. 

"General  Lee  styled  the  post  at  Sullivan's  Island  a 
slaughter  pen,  denounced  its  defence,  and  pronouncing 
disgrace  on  the  measure,  should  it  be  persisted  in,  ear 
nestly  requested  the  president  to  order  it  to  be  evacu 
ated. 

Happily  for  the  nation,  its  destinies  were  at  that  pe 
riod  guided  by  that  inflexible  patriot  John  Rutledge, 
who  confidently  relying  on  iVioultrie,  and  his  intrepid 
band,  heroically  replied  to  Lee,  "that  while  a  soldier 
remained  alive  to  defend  it,  he  would  never  give  his 
sanction  to  such  an  order."  The  result  proved  the  ac 
curacy  of  his  judgment.  The  following  laconic  note 
was  at  the  same  time  forwarded  to  Colonel  Moultrie. 
"General  Lee  wishes  you  to  evacuate  the  fort.  You 
will  not  without  an  order  from  me.  I  will  sooner  cut  off 
my  hand  than  write  one."* 

The  defence  of  the  pass  at  Sullivan's  Island  may  be 
compared  with  many  of  the  splendid  achievements 
which  Grecian  eloquence  has  rendered  illustrious.  Im 
pressed  with  prejudices  as  strong  as  Xerxes  ever  cher 
ished  against  Greece,  the  commanders  of  the  British 
forces  approached  our  coast,  not  to  conciliate,  but  to 
subdue.  Exulting  in  the  supposed  superiority  of  their 
discipline  and  valour,  they  spoke  in  the  language  of  au 
thority,  and  would  listen  to  no  terms  short  of  uncondi 
tional  submission. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  gallant  Moultrie,  commanding 
a  corps,  formidable  only  by  their  boldness  and  resolution, 

'Garden's  Anecdotes-. 


WILLIAM    MOULTRIE.  239 

impatiently  awaited  their  approach.  He  was  not 
insensible  of  the  insufficiency  of  a  work  hastily  con 
structed,  and  in  every  part  incomplete;  but  considering 
himself  pledged  to  give  a  proof  to  the  enemy  of  Ameri 
can  valour,  he  scorned  the  disgrace  of  relinquishing  the 
fort  he  had  sworn  to  defend,  and  notwithstanding  the 
advice  of  the  veteran  Lee,  heroically  prepared  for  ac 
tion. 

Immediately  on  the  approach  of  the  British  fleet  to 
the  coast,  with  the  evident  intention  of  attacking 
Charleston,  a  fort  had  been  constructed  on  the  west  end 
of  Sullivan's  Island,  mounting  thirty  two  guns,  32's  and 
18's.  Into  this  fort,  Moultrie  and  his  gallant  band  threw 
themselves. 

"Two  fifty  gun  ships  of  the  enemy,  four  frigates,  sev 
eral  sloops  of  war,  and  bomb-vessels,  were  brought  to 
the  attack,  which  was  commenced  about  eleven  o'clock 
from  one  of  the  bomb-vessels.  This  was  soon  followed 
by  the  guns  of  all  the  ships.  Four  of  the  vessels  drop 
ped  anchor  within  a  short  distance  of  the  fort  and  open 
ed  their  several  broadsides.  Three  others  were  ordered 
to  take  their  stations  between  the  end  of  the  island  and 
the  city,  intending  thereby  to  enfilade  the  works  as  well 
as  to  cut  off  the  communication  with  the  continent.  But 
in  attempting  to  execute  this  order,  they  became  en 
tangled  with  each  other  on  the  shoals,  and  one  of  the 
frigates,  the  ^cfeon^  stuck  fast. 

The  roar  of  artillery  upon  this  little  fort  was  inces 
sant,  and  enough  to  appal  even  those  who  had  been  ac 
customed  all  their  lives  to  the  dreadful  work  of  a  can- 
onade.  But  Moultrie,  with  his  brave  Carolinians, 
seemed  to  regard  it  only  as  a  symphony  to  the  grand 
march  of  independence.  They  returned  the  fire  with 
an  aim  as  true  and  deliberate  as  though  each  British 
ship  had  been  placed  as  a  target  for  prize  shooting,  and 
continued  it  for  several  hours  until  their  ammunition  was 
expended.  The  cessation  which  this  necessarily  occa 
sioned,  produced  a  momentary  joy  in  the  assailants,  who 
in  imagination  already  grasped  the  victory  which  had 
been  so  hotly  disputed — but  the  renewal  of  the  blaze 
from  the  batteries  soon  convinced  them  that  the  struggle 


24(J  WILLIAM    MOULT  RIE. 

was  not  yet  ended.  Another  g'eam  of  hope  brightened 
upon  the  British  seamen,  when,  after  a  dreadful  volley, 
thefag  of  Moultrie  was  no  longer  seen  to  wave  defiance. 
They  looked  eagerly  and  anxiously  towards  the  spot 
where  Clinton,  Cornwallis,  and  Vaughan,  had  landed 
with  the  troops,  expecting  every  moment  to  see  them 
mount  the  parapets  in  triumph.  But  no  British  troops 
appeared,  and  a  few  moments  afterward,  the  striped 
flag  of  the  colonies,  once  more  proudly  unfolded  to  the 
breeze — ihe  staff  had  been  carried  away  by  a  shot,  and 
the  flag  had  fallen  on  the  outside  of  the  works;  a  brave 
sen<eat  of  the  Carolina  troops,  by  the  name  of  Jasper* 
jumped  over  the  wall,  seized  the  flag,  and  fastened  it  to 
a  sponge  staff,  mounted  the  merlon,  amidst  the  thunder 
of  the  enemy's  guns,  and  fixed  it  in  a  conspicuous  place. 

The  ships  of  the  enemy  kept  up  their  fire  with  un 
subdued  courage,  until  half  past  nine  o'clock,  when  the 
darkness  of  the  night  put  a  stop  to  the  carnage  on  both 
sides;  and  the  ships,  with  the  exception  of  the  Jlcteon, 
soon  after  slipped  their  cables,  and  dropped  down  about 
two  miles  from  the  scene  of  action.  The  terrible  slaugh 
ter  on  board  the  ships  bore  melancholy  testimony  to  the 
bravery  of  the  Bristish  seamen.  Atone  time  Captain 
Morris,  of  the  Bristol,  was  almost  the  only  man  left  upon 
the  quarter  deck.  He  had  received  several  wounds,  but 
gallantly  refused  to  quit  the  deck,  until  no  longer  able 
to  stand,  or  give  an  order.  His  ship  had  111  killed 
and  wounded.  The  Experiment  lost  99  killed  and 
wounded,  and  among  the  latter  her  commander,  Captain 
Scoff.  The  Acteon  had  a  lieutenant  killed  and  six  men 
wounded,  and  the  Solcbay  cilrlit  wounded.  The  whole 
killed  and  wounded  225.  Sir  Peter  Parker,  and  Lord 
William  Campbell,  who  served  as  a  volunteer,  were 
both  wounded.  The  Americans  lost  only  ten  killed 
and  twenty-two  wounded. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  too  much  praise  to  Colonel 
Moultrie  and  his  brave  Carolinians,  who  for  more  than 
ten  hours  sustained  the  continued  fire  of  upwards  of  one 
hundred  guns  and  bombs;  from  which  in  the  course  of 
that  time  were  thrown  more  than  ten  thousand  shot  and 
shells,  seven  thousand  of  which  were  picked  up  on  the 
next  day. 


WILLIAM    IMOULTRIE.  241 

On  the  next  day  a  few  shot  were  fired  from  the  gar 
rison  at  the  Actcon,  which  remained  aground,  and  the 
crew  returned  them,  but  finding  it  impossible  to  get  her 
off,  they  soon  set  fire  to  and  abandoned  her,  leaving  the 
colours  flying,  the  guns  loaded,  and  all  their  ammunition 
and  stores.  In  this  perilous  situation  she  was  boarded 
by  a  small  party  of  Americans,  who  fired  three  of  the 
guns  at  their  late  owners,  while  the  flames  were  burst 
ing  around  them,  filled  their  boats  with  the  stores,  se 
cured  the  flag,  and  just  time  to  save  themselves,  when 
she  was  blown  into  the  air. 

The  fort  which  had  been  so  gallantly  defended  by 
MoulDrie,  afterwards  received  his  name."* 

"In  1779,  he  gained  a  victory  over  the  British,  in  the 
battle  near  Beaufort.  In  1780,  he  was  second  in  com 
mand,  in  Charleston,  during  the  siege.  After  the  city 
surrendered  he  was  sent  to  Philadelphia.  In  1782,  he 
returned,  and  was  repeatedly  chosen  governor  of  the 
state  of  South  Carolina, 

Notwithstanding  his  labours,  his  victories,  and  pub 
lic  services,  however  zealous,  however  glorious,  how 
ever  serviceable,  the  enemy  had  the  audacity  to  make 
choice  of  him  as  a  fit  object  to  be  gained  over  to  them 
by  bribery.  His  talents,  his  experience,  and  enterprise, 
would  be  an  invaluable  acquisition  to  the  enemy,  if  it 
«ould  be  employed  on  the  continent;  and  if  it  could 
not  be  so  employed,  then  the  depriving  the  Americans 
of  him  would  be  of  importance  nearly  as  great;  it  was, 
in  the  eyes  of  selfish,  greedy  enemy,  highly  probable 
that  a  man  who  had  suffered  so  much  in  his  private 
property,  would  listen  to  a  proposal  which  would  ena 
ble  him  to  go  to  Jamaica  as  colonel  of  a  British  regi 
ment,  the  commander  of  which,  Lord  Charles  Montague, 
politely  offered,  as  a  proof  of  his  sincerity,  to  quit  the 
command,  and  serve  under  him.  4No,'  replied  the  in 
dignant  Moultrie,  'not  the  fee-simple  of  that  valuable 
island  of  Jamaica  should  induce  me  to  part  with  my 
integrity.' 

•'Allen's  American  Revolution 

G2 


242  ISRAEL    PUTNAM. 

This  incorruptible  patriot  died  at  Charleston,  Septem 
ber  27,  1805,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age."* 


ISRAEL    PUTNAM, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

ISRAEL  PUTNAM,  who,  through  a  regular  graduation  of 
promotion,  became  the  senior  major  general  in  the  army 
of  the  United  States,  and  next  in  rank  to  General  Wash 
ington,  was  born  at  Salem,  Mass,  on  the  7th  day  of 
January,  1718. 

Courage,  enterprise,  activity,  and  perseverance,  were 
the  first  characteristics  of  his  mind ;  and  his  disposition 
was  as  frank  and  generous,  as  his  mind  .was  fearless  and 
independent.  Although  he  had  too  much  suavity  in  his 
nature  to  commence  a  quarrel,  he  had  too  much  sensi 
bility  not  to  feel,  and  too  much  honor  not  to  resent,  an 
intended  insult.  The  first  time  he  went  to  Boston,  he 
was  insulted  for  his  rusticity  by  a  boy  of  twice  his  size 
and  age;  after  bearing  sarcasms  until  his  patience  was 
worn  out,  he  challenged,  engaged,  and  vanquished  his 
unmannerly  antagonist,  to  the  great  diversion  of  a 
crowd  of  spectators.  While,  a  stripling,  Ins  ambition 
was  to  perform  the  labour  of  a  man,  and  to  excel  in  ath 
letic  diversions.  '•  .  •' 

In  the  year  1739.  he  removed  from  Salem  to  Proir  fret, 
an  inland  fertile  town  in  Connecticut.  Having  here  pur 
chased  a  considerable  tract  of  land,  he  applied  himself 
successfully  to  agriculture. 

"Our  farmer,  sufficiently  occupied  in  building  a  house 
and  barn,  felling  woods,  making  fences,  sowing  grain, 
planting  orchards,  and  taking  care  of  his  stock,  had  to 
encounter,  in  turn,  the  calamities  occasioned  by  draught 
in  summer,  blast  in  harvest,  loss  of  cattle  in  winter,  and 
the  desolation  of  his  shcepfold  by  wolves.  In  one  night 
he  had  seventy  fine  sheep  and  goats  killed,  besides  ma 
ny  lambs  and  kids  wounded.  This  havoc  was  commit 
ted  by  a  she  wolf,  which,  with  her  annual  whelps,  had 
for  several  years  infested  the  vicinity. 

*Americao  Biography. 


fell  A  EL     PUTNAM.  242 

This  wolf  at  length  became  such  an  intolerable  nui 
sance,  that  MY  Pimm  in  entered  into  a  combination  with 
five  of  his  neighbours  to  hfrnt  alternately  until  they  could 
tlestroy  her.  Two,  by  rotation,  were  to  be  constantly  in 
pursuit.  It  was  known  that,  having  lost  the  toes  from 
one  foot  by  a  steel  trap,  she  made  one  track  shorter 
than  the  other.  By  this  vestige  the  pursuers  recognised, 
in  a  light  snow,  the  route  of  this  pernicious  animal. — 
Having  followed  her  to  Connecticut  River,  and  found 
she  had  turned  back  in  a  direct  course  towards  Pomfret, 
they  immediately  returned;  and  by  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  the  bloodhounds  had  driven  her  into  a  den, 
about  three  miles  distant  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Putnam. 
The  people  soon  collected,  with  dogs,  guns,  straw,  fire, 
and  siflphur,  to  attack  the  common  enemy.  With  this 
aparatus  several  unsuccessful  efforts  were  made  to  force 
her  from  the  den.  The  hounds  came  back  badly  wound 
ed,  and  refused  to  return.  The  smoke  of  blazing  straw 
had  no  effect.  Nor  did  the  fumes  of  burnt  brimstone, 
with  which  the  cavern  was  filled,  compel  her  to  quit  the 
retirement.  Wearied  with  such  fruitless  attempts, 
(which  had  brought  the  time  at  .ten  o'clock  at  night,) 
Mr.  Putnam  tried  once  more  to  make  his  dogs  enter,  but 
in  vain;  he  proposed  to  his  negro  man  to  go  down  into 
the  cavern,  and  shoot  the  wolf,  buiLthe  negro  declined 
the  hazardous  service.  Then  it  &»s  that  the  master, 
angry  at  the  disappointment,  and  declaring  that  he  was 
ashamed  to  have  a  coward  in  his  i^giily,  resolved  him 
self  to  destroy  the  ferocious  beast,  les\she  should  escape 
through  some  unknown  fissure  of  the  rock.  His  neigh 
bours  strongly  remonstrated  against  the  perilous  enter 
prise;  but  he,  knowing  that  wild  animals  were  intimi 
dated  by  fire,  and  having  provided  several  strips  of 
birch  bark,  the  only  combustible  material  he  could  ob 
tain,  that  would  afford  li^ht  in  this  deep  and  darksome 
cave,  prepared  for  his  descent.  Having,  accordingly, 
divested  himself  of  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  and  having 
a  long  rope  fastened  round  his  legs,  by  which  he  might 
be  pulled  back  at  a  concerted  signal,  he  entered  head 
foremost,  with  a  blazing  torch  in  his  hand. 


244  ISRAEL   PUTNAM. 

The  aperture  of  the  den,  on  the  east  side  of  a  very 
high  ledge  of  rocks,  is  about  two  feet  square;  from 
thence  it  descends  obliquely  fifteen  feet,  then  running 
horizontally  about  ten  more,  it  ascends  gradually  six 
teen  feet  towards  its  termination.  The  sides  of  this 
subterraneous  cavity  are  composed  of  smooth  and  solid 
rocks,  which  seem  to  have  been  divided  from  each  other 
by  some  former  earthquake.  The  top  and  bottom  are 
also  of  stone;  and  the  entrance,  in  winter,  being  cover 
ed  with  ice,  is  exceedingly  slippery.  It  is  in  no  place 
high  enough  for  a  man  to  raise  himself  upright,  nor  in 
any  part  more  than  three  feet  in  width. 

Having  groped  his  passage  to  the  horizontal  part  of 
the  den,  the  most  terrifying  darkness  appeared  in  front 
of  the  dim  circle  of  light  afforded  by  his  torch.  It  was 
silent  as  the  house  of  death.  None  but  monsters  of  the 
desert  had  ever  before  explored  this  solitary  mansion  of 
horror.  He,  cautiously  proceeded  onward,  came  to  the 
ascent,  which  he  slowly  mounted  on  his  hands  and 
knees  until  he  discovered  the  glaring  eyeballs  of  the 
wolf,  who  was  sitting  at  the  extremity  of  the  cavern. 
Started  at  the  sight  of  fire,  she  gnashed  her  teeth,  and 
gave  a  sullen  growl.  As  soon  as  he  had  made  the  ne 
cessary  discovery,  he  kicked  the  rope,  as  a  signal  for 
pulling  him  out.  The  people  at  the  mouth  of  the  den, 
who  had  listened  with  painful  anxiety,  hearing  the 
growling  of  the  wolf,  and  supposing  their  friend  to  be  in 
most  imminent  danger,  drew  him  forth  with  such  celer 
ity  that  his  shirt  was  stripped  over  his  head,  and  his 
skin  severely  lacerated.  After  he  had  adjusted  his 
clothes,  and  loaded  his  gun  with  nine  buck-shot,  holding 
a  torch  in  one  hand,  and  the  musket  in  the  other,  he 
descended  the  second  time.  When  he  drew  nearer  than 
before,  the  wolf,  assuming  a  still  more  tierce  and  terri 
ble  appearance,  howling,  rolling  her  eyes,  snapping  her 
teeth,  and  dropping  her  head  between  her  legs,  was  ev 
idently  in  the  attitude,  and  on  the  point  of  springing  at 
him.  At  this  critical  instant  he  levelled  and  fired  at 
her  head.  Stunned  with  the  shock,  and  suffocated  with 
the  smoke,  he  immediately  found  himself  drawn  out  of 
t'he  cave.  But  having  refreshed  himself,  and  permitted 


ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  243 

the  smoke  to  dissipate,  he  went  down  the  third  time? 
Once  more  he  came  within  sight  of  the  wolf,  who  ap 
pearing  very  passive,  he  applied  the  torch  to  her  nose, 
and  perceiving  her  dead,  he  took  hold  of  her  ears,  and 
then  kicking  the  rope,  (still  tied  round  his  legs,)  the  peo 
ple  above,  with  no  small  exultation,  dragged  them  both 
out  together."* 

But  the  time  had  now  arrived,  which  was  to  turn  the 
implements  of  husbandry  into  weapons  of  hostility, and 
to  exchange  the  hunting  of  wolves,  which  had  ravaged 
the  sheepfolds,for  the  pursuit  of  savages,  who  had  des 
olated  the  frontiers.  Putnam  was  about  37  years  of 
age,  when  the  war  between  England  and  France  broke 
out  in  America.  In  1755  he  was  appointed  to  the  com 
mand  of  a  company,  in  the  first  regiment  of  provincials 
that  was  levied  by  Connecticut.  The  regiment  joined 
the  army  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  not  far  distant 
from  Crown  Point. 

"Soon  after  his  arrival  at  camp,  he  became  intimate 
ly  acquainted  with  the  famous  partisan  Captain,  after 
ward  Major  Rogers,  with  whom  he  was  frequently  asso 
ciated  in  traversing  the  wilderness,  reconnoitering  the 
enemy's  lines,  gaining  intelligence,  and  taking  straggling 
prisoners,  as  well  as  in  beating  up  the  quarters,  and 
surprising  the  advanced  pickets  of  their  enemy.  For 
these  operations,  a  corps  of  rangers  was  formed  from 
the  irregulars.  The  first  time  Rogers  and  Putnam  were 
detached  with  a  party  of  these  light  troops,  it  was  the 
fortune  of  the  latter  to  preserve,  with  his  own  hand,  the 
life  of  the  former,  and  to  cement  their  friendship  with 
the  blood  of  one  of  their  enemies. 

The  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  obtain  an  accu 
rate  knowledge  of  the  position  and  state  of  the  works 
at  Crown  Point.  It  was  impracticable  to  approach  with 
their  party  near  enough  for  this  purpose,  without  being 
discovered.  Alone,  the  undertaking  was  sufficiently 
hazardous,  on  account  of  the  swarms  of  hostile  Indians 
who  infested  the  woods.  Our  two  partisans,  however, 
left  all  their  men  at  a  convenient  distance,,  with  strict 

*Life  of  Putnam.. 


246  ISRAEL   PUTNAM. 

orders  to  continue  concealed  until  their  return.  Having 
thus  cautiously  taken  their  arrangements,  they  advan 
ced  with  the  profoundest  silence  in  the  evening;  and  lay 
during  the  night  contiguous  to  the  fortress.  Early  in 
the  morning  they  approached  so  close  as  to  be  able  to 
give  satisfactory  information  to  the  general  who  had 
sent  them,  on  the  several  points  to  which  their  attention 
had  been  directed:  but  Captain  Rogers,  being  at  a  little 
distance  from  Captain  Putnam,  fortuitously  met  a  stout 
Frenchman,  who  instantly  seized  his  fusee  with  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  attempted  to  stab  him,  while 
he  called  to  an  adjacent  guard  for  assistance.  The 
guard  answered.  Putnam,  perceiving  the  imminent 
danger  of  his  friend,  and  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  or 
further  alarm  given  by  firing,  ran  rapidly  to  them,  while 
they  were  yet  struggling,  and  with  the  but  end  of  his 
priccfe'laid  the  Frenchman  dead  at  his  feet.  The  parti 
sans,  to  elude  pursuit,  precipitated  their  flight,  joined 
the  party,  and  returned  without  loss  to  the  encamp 
ment/'* 

The  time  for  which  the  colonial  troops  engaged  to 
serve  terminated  with  the  campaign.  Putnam  was  re- 
appointed,  and  again  took  the  field  in  17.06. 

"Few  are  so  ignorant  of  war,  as  not  to  know  that 
military  adventures  in  the  night,  are  always  extremely 
liable  to  accidents.  Captain  Putnam,  having  been  com 
manded  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy's  camp  at  The  Ovens 
near  Ticondcroga,  took  the  brave  Lieutenant  Robert 
Durkee  as  his  companion.  In  attempting  to  execute 
these  orders,  h$  narrowly  missed  being  taken  himself  in 
the  first  instance,  and  killing  his  friend  in  the  second. 
It  was  customary  for  the  British  and  provincial  troops 
to  place  their  fires  round  their  camp,  which  frequently 
exposed  them  to  the  enemy's  scouts  and  patroles.  A 
contrary  practice  then  unknown  in  the  English  army, 
prevailed  among  the  French  and  Indians.  The  plan 
was  much  more  rational;  they  kept  their  fires  in  the 
centre,  lodged  their  men  circularly  at  a  distance,  and 
posted  their  sentinels  in  the  surrounding  darkness.  Our 

Life  of  Putnam. 


ISRAEL   PUTNAM.  247 

partisans  approached  the  camp,  and  supposing;  the  sen 
tries  were- within  the  circle  of  fires,  crept  upon  their 
hands  and  knees  with  the  greatest  possible  caution,  un 
til,  to  their  utter  astonishment,  they  found  themselves  in 
the  thickest  of  the  enemy.  The  sentinels,  discovering 
them,  fired,  and  slightly  wounded  Durkee  in  the  thigh. 
He  and  Putnam  had  no  alternative.  They  fled.  The 
latter,  being  foremost,  and  scarcely  able  to  see  his  hand 
before  him,  soon  plunged  into  a  clay  pit.  Durkee,  al 
most  at  the  identical  moment,  came  tumbling  after. — 
Putnam,  by  no  means  pleased  at  finding  a  companion, 
and  believing  him  to  be  one  of  the  enemy,  lilted  his  tom 
ahawk  to  give  the  deadly  blow,  when  Durkee,  (who 
had  followed  so  closely  as  to  know  him)  inquired  wheth 
er  he  had  escaped  unhurt.  Captain  Putnam  instantly 
recognising  the  voice,  dropped  his  weapon,  and  both, 
springing  from  the  pit,  made  good  their  retreat  to  the 
neighbouring  ledges,  amidst  a  shower  of  random  shot. 
There  they  betook  themselves  to  alnr<re  log,  by  the  side 
of  which  they  lodged  the  remainder  of  the  night.  Be 
fore  they  lay  down.  Captain  PutiMin  said  he  had  a  little 
rum  in  his  canteen,  which  could  never  be  more  accept 
able  or  necessary;  but  on  examining  the  canteen,  which 
hung  under  his  rm,  he  found  the  enemy  had  pierced  it 
with  their  balls,  and  that  there  was  not  a  drop  of  liquor 
left.  The  next  day  he  found  fourteen  bullet  holes  in  his 
blanket."* 

Nothing  worthy  of  remark  happened  during  the  course- 
of  this  campaign,  but  the  active  services  of  Captain 
Putnam  on  every  occasion  attracted  the  admiration  of 
the  public,  and  induced  the  legislature  of  Connecticut  to 
promote  him  to  a  majority  in  1757. 

"In  the  winter  of  1757,  when  Colonel  Haviland  was 
commandant  at  Fort  Edward,  the  barracks  adjoining  to 
the  northwest  bastion  took  fire.  They  extended  within 
twelve  feet  of  the  magazine,  which  contained  three 
hundred  barrels  of  powder.  On  its  first  discovery,  the 
fire  raged  with  great  violence.  The  commandant  en 
deavoured,  in  vain,  by  discharging  some  pieces  of  heavy 

*Life  of  Putnam. 


248  ISKAEL    PUTNAM. 

artillery  against  the  supporters  of  this  flight  of  barracks, 
to  level  them  with  the  ground.  Putnam  arrived  from  the 
island  where  he  was  stationed  at  the  moment  when 
the  blaze  approached  that  end  which  was  contiguous 
to  the  magazine.  Instantly  a  vigorous  attempt  was 
made  to  extinguish  the  conflagration.  A  way  was  open 
ed  by  a  postern  gate  to  the  river,  and  the  soldiers  were 
employed  in  bringing  water;  which  he,  having  mounted 
on  a  ladder  to  the  eves  of  the  building,  received  and 
threw  upon  the  flame.  It  continued,  notwithstanding 
their  utmost  efforts,  to  gain  upon  them.  He  stood,  en 
veloped  in  smoke,  so  near  the  sheet  of  fire,  that  a  pair  of 
thick  blanket  mittens  were  burnt  entirely  from  his  hands. 
He  was  supplied  with  another  pair  dipt  in  water.  Col, 
Haviland  fearing  that  he  would  perish  in  the  flames, 
called  to  him  to  come  down,  but  he  entreated  that  he 
might  be  suffered  to  remain,  since  destruction  must  in 
evitably  ensue  if  their  exertions  should  be  remitted. 
The  gallant  Commandant,  not  less  astonished  than 
charmed  at  the  boldness  of  his  conduct,  forbade  any 
more  effects  to  be  carried  out  of  the  fort,  animated  the 
men  to  redoubled  diligence,  and  exclaimed, "if  we  must 
be  blown  up,  we  will  go  all  together."  At  last,  when 
the  barracks  were  seen  to  be  tumbling,  Putnam  descend 
ed,  placed  himself  at  the  interval,  and  continued  from 
an  incessant  rotation  of  replenished  buckets  to  pour 
water  upon  the  magazine.  The  outside  planks  were 
alreadv  consumed  by  the  proximity  of  the  fire,  and  as 
only  one  thickness  of  timber  intervened,  the  trepidation 
now  became  general  and  extreme.  Putnam,  still  un 
daunted,  covered  with  a  cloud  of  cindars,  and  scorched 
with  the  intensity  of  the  heat,  maintained  his  position 
until  the  fire  subsided,  and  the  danger  was  wholly  over. 
He  had  contended  for  one  hour  and  a  half  with  that  ter 
rible  element.  His  legs,  his  thighs,  his  arms,  and  his 
face  were  blistered;  and  when  he  pulled  off  his  second 
pair  of  mittens,the  skin  from  his  hands  and  fingers  follow 
ed  them.  It  was  a  month  before  he  recovered.  The 
Commandant,  to  whom  his  merits  had  before  endeared 
him,  could  not  stifle  the  emotions  of  gratitude  due  to  the 
man  who  had  been  so  instrumental  in  preserving  the 
magazine,  the  fort,  and  the  garrison. 


ISRAEL    PUTNAM*  249 

In  the  month  of  August,  five  hundred  men  were  em 
ployed,  under  the  orders  of  Majors  Rogers  and  Putnam, 
lo  watch  the  motions  of  the  enemy  near  Ticonderoga. 
At  South  Bay  they  separated  the  party  into  two  equal 
divisions,  and  Rogers  took  a  position  on  Wood-Creek, 
twelve  miles  distant  from  Putnam. 

Upon  being,  some  time  afterward,  discovered,  they 
formed  a  reunion,  and  concerted  measures  for  returning 
to  Fort  Edward.  Their  march  through  the  woods  was 
in  three  divisions  by  FILES:  the  right  commanded  by  Ro 
gers,  the  left  by  Putnam,  and  the  centre  by  Capt.  D'Ell. 
At  the  moment  of  moving,  the  famous  French  partizan 
Molang,  who  had  been  sent  with  five  hundred  men  to 
intercept  our  party,  was  not  more  than  one  mile  and  a 
half  distant  from  them.  Major  Putnam  was  just  emer 
ging  from  the  thicket,  into  the  common  forest,  \v\\ei\  the 
enemy  rose,  and,  with  discordant  yells  and  whoops,  com 
menced  an  attack  upon  the  right  of  his  div/sion.  Sur 
prised,  but  undismayed,  Putnam  halted,  returned  the  fire, 
and  passed  the  word  for  the  other  divisions  to  advance 
for  his  support.  D'Ell  came.  The  action,  though 
widely  scattered,  and  principally  fought  between  man 
and  man,  soon  grew  general  ami  intensely  warm. 

Major  Putnam,  perceiving  it  would  be  impracticable 
to  cross  the  creek  in  his  rear,  determined  to  maintain 
his  ground.  Inspired  by  his  example,  the  officers  and 
men  behaved  with  great  bravery ;  sometimes  they  fought 
aggregately  in  open  view,  and  sometimes  individually 
under  cover;  taking  aim  from  behind  the  bodies  of  trees, 
and  acting,  in  a  manner,  independent  of  each  other. 
For  himself,  having  discharged  his  fusee  several  times, 
at  length  it  missed  fire,  while  the  muzzle  was  pressed 
against  the  breast  of  a  large  and  well  proportioned  sav 
age.  This  warrior,  availing  himself  of  the  indefensible 
attitude  of  his  adversary,  with  a  tremendous  war- 
hoop,  sprang  forward,  with  his  lifted  hatchet,  and  com 
pelled  him  to  surrender;  and,  having  disarmed  and 
bound  him  fast  to  a  tree,  returned  to  the  battle. 

The  intrepid  Captain  D'Ell  and  Harman,  who  now 
commanded,  were  forced  to  give  ground  for  a  little  dis 
tance:  the  savages,  conceiving  this  to  be  the  certain 

H2 


ISRAEL    PUTNAM. 

harbinger  of  victory,  rushed  impetuously  on,  with  dread 
ful  and  redoubled  cries.     But   our  two  partizans,  col 
lecting  a  handful   of  brave  men,  gave  the    pursuers  so 
warm  a  reception  as  to  oblige  them,  in  turn,  to  retreat 
a  little   beyond  the  spot   at  which  the  action  had  com 
menced.     Here   they   made  a   stand.     This  change  of 
ground  occasioned  the  tree  to  which  Putnam  was  tied  to 
be  directly  between  the  fire  of  the  two  parties.     Human 
imagination   can  hardly  figure  to  itself  a  more  deplora 
ble  situation.     The    balls   flew   incessantly  from  either 
side,  many  struck   the  tree,  while  some  passed  through 
the  sleeves  and  skirts  of  his  coat.     In  this  state  of  jeop 
ardy,  unable  to  move  his  body,  to  stir  his  limbs,  or  even 
to  incline  his  head,  he  remained  more  than  an  hour.     So 
equally    balanced,  and  so  obstinate   was  the   fight!  At 
one  moment,  while  the  battle  swerved    in  favour  of  the 
enemy,  R  young  savage  chose  an   odd  way  of  discover 
ing  his  huinour.     He   found  Putnam  bound.     He   might 
have  despatched  him  at  a  blow.     But  he  loved  better 
to  excite  the  terrors  of  the  prisoner,  by  hurling  a  toma 
hawk  at  his   head,  or  rather  it  should    seem  his    object 
was  to  see  how  near  he  could  throw  it  without  touching 
him — the  weapon  struck  in  the  tree  a  number  of  times, 
at  a  hair's  breadth    distant  from  the  mark.     When   the 
Indian  had  finished  his  amusement,  a  French  bas-officer, 
(a  much  more  inveterate  savage  by   nature,  though  de 
scended  from  so  humane    and  polished   a  nation,)  per 
ceiving  Putnam,  came  tip  to  him,  and,  levelling  a  fusee 
within  a  foot  of  his   breast,  attempted  to  discharge  it — 
it  missed  fire.     Ineffectually  did  the  intended  victim  so 
licit  the    treatment  due  to  his  situation,  by    repealing 
that  he  was  a  prisoner  of  war.     The  degenerate  French 
man  did  not   understand  the  language  of  honour  or  of 
nature:  deaf  to  their   voice,  and  dead  to  sensibility,  he 
violently,  and  repeatedly,  pushed  the  muzzle  of  his  gun 
against  Putnam's  ribs,  and  finally  gave  him  a  cruel  blow 
on  the  jaw    with  the   butt  end  of  his  piece.     After  this 
dastardly  deed  he  left  him. 

At  length,  the  active  intrepidity  of  D'EIl  and  Har- 
nuin,  seconded  by  the  persevering  valour  of  their  follow 
ers,  prevailed.  They  drove  from  the  field  the  enemy, 


ISRAEL   PUTNAM.  251 

who  left  about  ninety  dead  behind  them.  As  they  were 
retiring,  Putnam  was  untied  by  the  Indian  who  had  made 
him  prisoner,  and  whom  he  afterward  called  master. 
Having  been  conducted  for  some  distance  from  the  place 
of  action,  he  was  stripped  of  his  coat,  vest,  stockings, 
and  shoes;  loaded  with  as  many  of  the  packs  of  the 
wounded  as  could  be  piled  upon  him;  strongly  pinioned, 
and  his  wrists  tied  as  closely  together  as  they  could  be 
pulled  with  a  cord.  After  he  had  marched,  through  no 
pleasant  paths,  in  this  painful  manner,  for  many  a  tedi 
ous  mile,  the  party  (who  were  excessively  fatigued) 
halted  to  breathe.  His  hands  were  now  immoderately 
swelled  from  the  tightness  of  the  ligature:  and  the  pain 
had  become  intolerable.  His  feet  were  so  much  scratch 
ed,  that  the  blood  dropped  fast  from  them.  Exhausted 
with  bearing  a  burden  above  his  strength,  and  frantic 
with  torments  exquisite  beyond  endurance,  he  entreated 
the  Irish  interpreter  to  implore,  as  the  last  and  only 
grace  he  desired  of  the  savages,  that  they  would  knock 
him  on  the  head  and  take  his  scalp  at  once,  or  loose  his 
hands.  A  French  officer,  instantly  interposing,  ordered 
his  hands  to  be  unbound,  and  some  of  the  packs  to  be 
taken  off.  By  this  time,  the  Indian  who  captured  him, 
and  had  been  absent  with  the  wounded,  coming  up,  gave 
him  a  pair  of  mockasons,  and  expressed  great  indigna 
tion  at  the  unworthy  treatment  his  prisoner  had  suffered. 
That  savage  chief  again  returned  to  the  care  of  the 
wounded,  and  the  Indians,  about  two  hundred  in  num 
ber,  went  before  the  rest  of  the  party  to  the  place  where 
the  whole  were  that  night  to  encamp.  They  took  with 
them  Major  Putnam,  on  whom,  besides  innumerable 
other  outrages,  they  had  the  barbarity  to  inflict  a  deep 
wound  with  the  tomahawk  in  the  left  cheek.  His  suf 
ferings  were,  in  this  place,  to  be  consummated.  A  scene 
of  horror,  infinitely  greater  than  had  ever  met  his  eyes 
before,  was  now  preparing.  It  was  determined  to  roast 
him  alive.  For  this  purpose,  they  led  him  into  a  dark 
forest,  stripped  him  naked,  bound  him  to  a  tree,  and 
piled  dry  brush,  with  other  fuel,  at  a  small  distance,  in  a 
circle  round  him.  They  accompanied  their  labours,  as  if 
for  his  funeral  dirge,  with  screams  and  sounds  inimita- 


252  ISRAEL    PUTNAM. 

ble  but  by  savage  voices.  Then  they  set  the  piles  on 
fire.  A  sudden  shower  damped  the  rising  flame.  Still 
they  strove  to  kindle  it,  until,  at  last,  the  blaze  ran 
fiercely  round  the  circle.  Major  Putnam  soon  began  to 
feel  the  scorching  heat. 

His  hands  were  so  tied  that  he  could  move  his  body. 
He  often  shifted  sides  as  the  fire  approached.  This 
sight,  at  the  very  idea  of  which  all  but  savages  must 
shudder,  afforded  the  highest  diversion  to  his  inhuman 
tormentors,  who  demonstrated  the  delirium  of  their  joy 
by  correspondent  yells,  dances,  and  gesticulations.  He 
saw  clearly  that  his  final  hour  was  inevitably  come. 
He  summoned  all  his  resolution,  and  composed  his  mind 
as  far  as  the  circumstances  could  admit,  to  bid  an  eter 
nal  farewell  to  all  he  held  most  dear.  To  quit  the  world 
would  scarcely  have  cost  a  single  pang;  but  for  the  idea 
of  home,  but  for  the  remembrance  of  domestic  endear 
ments,  of  the  affectionate  partner  of  his  soul,  and  of 
their  beloved  offspring.  His  thought  was  ultimately 
fixed  on  a  happier  state  of  existence,  beyond  the  tor 
tures  he  was  beginning  to  endure.  The  bitterness  of 
death,  even  of  that  death  which  is  accompanied  with 
the  keenest  agonies,  was,  in  a  manner,  past — nature, 
with  a  feeble  struggle,  was  quitting  its  last  hold  on  sub 
lunary  things,  when  a  French  officer  rushed  through  the 
crowd,  opened  a  way  by  scattering  the  burning  brands, 
and  unbound  the  victim.  It  was  Molang  himself,  to 
whom  a  savage,  unwilling  to  see  another  human  sacri 
fice  immolated,  had  run  and  communicated  the  tidings. 
That  commandant  spurned  and  severely  reprimanded 
the  barbarians,  whose  nocturnal  powwas  and  hellish 
orgies  he  suddenly  ended.  Putnam  did  not  want  for 
feeling  or  gratitude.  The  French  commander,  fearing 
to  trust  him  alone  with  them,  remained  until  he  could 
deliver  him  in  safety  into  the  hands  of  his  master. 

The  savage  approached  his  prisoner  kindly,  and  seem 
ed  to  treat  him  with  particular  affection.  He  offered 
him  some  hard  biscuit;  but  finding  he  could  not  chew 
them,  on  account  of  the  blow  he  had  received  from  the 
Frenchman,  this  more  humane  savage  soaked  some  of 
the  biscuit  in  water,  and  made  him  suck  the  pulp-likr 


ISRAEL   PUTNAM.  253 

part.  Determined,  however,  not  to  lose  his  captive,  (the 
refreshment  being  finished,)  he  took  the  mocasons  from 
his  feet,  and  tied  them  to  one  of  his  wrists:  then  direct 
ing  him  to  lie  down  on  his  hack  upon  the  bare  ground,  he 
stretched  one  arm  to  its  full  length,  and  pinioned  it  fast 
to  a  young  tree;  the  other  arm  was  extended  and  bound 
in  the  same  manner — his  legs  were  stretched  apart,  and 
fastened  to  two  saplings.  Then  a  number  of  tall,  but 
slender  poles  were  cut  down,  which,,  with  some  long 
bushes,  were  laid  across  his  body  from  head  to  foot:  on 
each  side  lay  as  many  Indians  as  could  conveniently 
find  lodging,  in  order  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  his  es 
cape.  In  this  disagreeable  and  painful  posture  he  re 
mained  until  morning.  During  this  night,  the  longest 
and  most  dreary  conceivable,  our  hero  used  to  relate 
that  he  felt  a  ray  of  cheerfulness  come  casually  across 
his  mind,  and  could  not  even  refrain  from  smiling  when 
he  reflected  on  this  ludicrous  groupe  for  a  painter,  of 
which  he  himself  was  the  principal  figure. 

The  next  day,  he  was  allowed  his  blanket  and  moca 
sons,  and  permitted  to  march  without  carrying  any  pack, 
or  receiving  any  insult.  To  allay  his  extreme  hunger, 
a  little  bears's  meat  was  given,  which  he  sucked  through 
his  teeth.  At  night  the  party  arrived  at  Ticonderoga, 
and  the  prisoner  was  placed  under  the  care  of  a  French 
guard.  The  savages,  who  had  been  prevented  from 
glutting  their  diabolical  thirst  for  blood,  took  other  op 
portunity  of  manifesting  their  malevolence  for  the  dis 
appointment,  by  horrid  grimaces  and  angry  gestures; 
but  they  were  suffered  no  more  to  offer  violence  or  per 
sonal  indignity  to  him. 

After  having  been  examined  by  the  Marquis  de 
Montcalm,  Major  Putnam  was  conducted  to  Montreal 
by  a  French  officer,  who  treated  him  with  the  greatest 
indulgence  and  humanity. 

At  this  place  were  several  prisoners.  Colonel  Peter 
Schuyler,  remarkable  for  his  philanthrophy,  generosity 
and  friendship,  was  of  the  number.  No  sooner  had  he 
heard  of  Major  Putnam's  arrival,  than  he  went  to  the 
interpreter's  quarters,  and  inquired  whether  he  had  a 
Provincial  Major  in  his  custody.  He  found  Major 


254  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

Putnam  in  a  comfortless  condition — without  coat,  waist 
coat,  or  hose — the  remnant  of  his  clothing  miserably 
dirty  and  ragged — his  beard  long  and  squallid — his  legs 
torn  by  thorns  and  briers — his  face  gashed  by  wounds, 
and  swollen  with  bruises.  Col.  Schuyler,  irritated  be 
yond  all  sufferance  at  such  a  sight,  could  scarcely  re 
strain  his  speech  within  limits,  consistent  with  the  pru 
dence  of  a  prisoner,  and  the  meekness  of  a  Christian. 
Major  Putnam  was  immediately  treated  according  to 
his  rank,  clothed  in  a  decent  manner,  and  supplied  with 
money  by  that  liberal  and  sympathetic  patron  of  the 
distressed. 

The  capture  of  Frontenac  by  General  Bradstreet. 
afforded  occas  on  for  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  CoL 
Schuyler  was  comprehended  in  the  cartel.  A  generous 
spirit  can  never  be  satisfied  with  imposing  tasks  for  its 
generosity  to  accomplish.  Apprehensive  if  it  should 
be  known  that  Putnam  was  a  distinguished  partizan,his 
liberation  might  be  retarded,  and  knowing  that  there 
were  officers  who,  from  the  length  of  their  captivity, 
had  a  claim  of  priority  to  exchange,  he  had,  by  his  hap 
py  address,  induced  the  governor  to  offer,  that  whatever 
officer  he  might  think  proper  to  nominate  should  be  in 
cluded  in  the  present  cartel.  With  great  politeness  in 
manner,  but  seeming  indifference  as  to  object,  he  ex 
pressed  his  warmest  acknowledgments  to  the  governor, 
and  said, — 'There  is  an  old  man  here,  who  is  a  Provin 
cial  major,  and  wishes  to  be  at  home  with  his  wife  and 
children;  he  can  do  no  good  here  or  any  where  else:  I 
believe  your  Excellency  had  better  keep  some  of  the 
young  men,  who  have  no  wife  nor  children  to  care  for, 
and  let  the  old  fellow  go  home  with  me.'  This  justifia 
ble  iinessfe  had  the  desired  effect.* 

Shortly  after,  Putnam  was  promoted  to  a  lieutenant 
colonel,  in  which  he  continued  until  the  close  of  the 
war,  ever,  and  on  all  occasions,  supporting  his  hards 
earned  reputation  for  valour  and  intrepidity;  and,  at 
the  expiration  of  ten  years  from  his  first  receiving  a 
commission,  after  having  seen  as  much  service,  endured 

*Life  of  Putnam. 


ISRAEL    PUTNAM.  255 

as  many  hardships,  encountered  as  many  dangers,  and 
acquired  as  many  laurels  as  any  officer  of  his  rank,  with 
great  satisfaction  laid  aside  his  uniform  and  returned  to 
the  plough. 

On  the  22d  day  of  March,  1765,  the  stamp-act  re 
ceived  the  royal  assent.  Colonel  Putnam  was,  at  this 
time,  a  member  of  the  house  of  assembly  of  the  state  of 
Connecticut,  and  was  deputed  to  wait  on  the  then  Gov 
ernor  Fitch  on  the  subject.  The  questions  of  the  gov 
ernor,  and  answers  of  Putnam,  will  serve  to  indicate  the 
spirit  of  the  times.  After  some  conversation,  the  gov 
ernor  asked  Col.  Putnam  "what  he  should  do  if  the 
stamped  paper  should  be  sent  him  by  the  king's  author 
ity?"  Putnam  replied,  "lock  it  up  until  we  shall  visit 
you  again."  "And  what  will  you  do  then?"  "We  shall 
expect  you  to  give  us  the  key  of  the  room  in  which  it  is 
deposited ;  and,  if  you  think  fit,  in  order  to  secure  your 
self  from  blame,  you  may  forewarn  us,  upon  our  peril, 
not  to  enter  the  room."  "And  what  will  you  do  after 
ward?"  "Send  it  safely  back  again."  "But  if  I  should 
refuse  admission?"  "In  such  case,  your  house  will  be 
demolished  in  five  minutes."  It  is  supposed  that  a  re 
port  of  this  conversation  was  one  reason  why  the  stamp 
paper  was  never  sent  from  New  York  to  Connecticut. 

Being  once,  in  particular,  asked  by  a  British  officer, 
with  whom  he  had  formerly  served,  "whether  he  did 
not  seriously  believe  that  a  well-appointed  British  army 
of  five  thousand  veterans  could  march  through  the 
whole  continent  of  America?"  he  briskly  replied,  "no 
doubt,  if  they  behaved  civilly,  and  paid  well  for  every 
thing  they  wanted ;  but,"  after  a  moment's  pause,  added, 
"if  they  should  attempt  it  in  a  hostile  manner  (though  the 
American  men  were  out  of  the  question,)  the  women, 
with  their  ladles  and  broomsticks,  would  knock  them  all 
on  t.he  head  before  they  had  got  halfway  through." 

The  battle  of  Lexington  found  Putnam  in  the  midst 
of  his  agricultural  pursuits.  Immediately,  upon  learn 
ing  the  fatal  rencontre,  he  left  his  plough  in  the  middle 
of  the  field,  unyoked  his  team,  and,  without  waiting  to 
change  his  clothes,  set  off  for  the  theatre  of  action.  But 
finding  the  British  retreated  to  Boston,  and  invested  by 


ISRAEL    PUTNAM. 

a  sufficient  force  to  watch  their  movements,  he  carne 
back  to  Connecticut,  levied  a  regiment  under  authority 
of  the  legislature,  and  speedily  returned  to  Cambridge. 
He  was  now  promoted  to  be  a  major-general  on  the  con 
tinental  establishment. 

"Not  long  after  this  period,  the  British  commander-in- 
chief  found  the  means  to  convey  a  proposal,  privately, 
to  General  Putnam,  that  if  he  would  relinquish  the  rebel 
party,  he  might  rely  upon  being  made  a  major-general 
on  the  British  establishment,  and  receiving  a  great  pe 
cuniary  compensation  for  his  services.  Gen.  Putnam 
spurned  at  the  offer;  which,  however,  he  thought  pru 
dent  at  that  time  to  conceal  from  public  notice." 

"In  the  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill,  he  exhibited  his  usual 
intrepidity.  He  directed  the  men  to  reserve  their  fire 
till  the  enemy  was  very  near,  reminded  them  of  their 
skill,  and  told  them  to  take  good  aim.  They  did  so, 
and  the  execution  was  terrible.  After  the  retreat,  he 
made  a  stand  at  Winter  Hill,  and  drove  back  the  ene 
my  under  cover  of  their  ships.  When  the  army  was 
organized  by  General  Washington  at  Cambridge,  Put 
nam  was  appointed  to  command  the  reserve.  In  Au 
gust,  177(3,  he  was  stationed  at  Brooklyn,  on  Long- 
Island.  After  the  defeat  of  our  army  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  that  month,  he  went  to  New-York,  and  was 
very  serviceable  in  the  city  and  neighbourhood.  In  Oc 
tober  or  November  he  was  sent  to  Philadelphia,  to  fortify 
that  city. 

In  January,  1777,  he  was  directed  to  take  post  at 
Princeton,  where  he  continued  until  spring.  At  this 
place,  a  sick  prisoner,  a  captain,  requested  that  a  friend 
in  the  British  army  at  Brunswick  might  be  sent  for  to 
assist  him  in  making  his  will.  Putnam  was  perplexed. 
He  had  but  fifty  men  under  his  command,  and  he  did 
not  wish  to  have  his  weakness  known;  yet  he  was  un 
willing  to  deny  the  request.  He,  however,  sent  a  flag 
of  truce,  and  directed  the  officer  to  be  brought  in  the 
night.  In  the  evening,  lights  were  placed  in  all  the 
college  windows,  and  in  every  apartment  of  the  vacant 
houses  throughout  the  tn\vn.  The  officer,  on  his  return, 
reported  that  General  Putnam's  army  could  not  consist 
of  less  than  four  or  five  thousand  men. 


' 


or 
o 
1 


. 


ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  257 

Iii  the  spring  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  a 
separate  army,  in  the  Highlands  of  New  York.  One 
Palmer,  a  lieutenant  in  the  tory  new  levies,  was  de 
tected  in  the  camp;  Governor  Tryon  reclaimed  him  as  a 
British  officer,  threatening  vengeance  if  he  was  not  res 
tored.  General  Putnam  wrote  the  following  pithy  re 
ply: — 'Sir,  Nathan  Palmer,  a  lieutenant  in  your  king's 
service,  was  taken  in  my  camp  as  a  spy;  he  was  tried 
as  a  spy;  he  was  condemned  as  a  spy;  and  shall  be 
Jhanged  as  a  spy.  P.  S.  Afternoon.  He  is  hanged." 

After  the  loss  of  Fort  Montgomery,  the  Commander 
in  chief  determined  to  build  another  fortification,  and  he 
directed  Putnam  to  fix  upon  a  spot.  To  him  belongs 
the  praise  of  having  chosen  Westpoint."* 

"About  the  middle  of  winter,  while  General  Putnam 
was  on  a  visit  to  his  out-post  at  Horse-Neck,  he  found 
Governor  Tryon  advancing  upon  that  town  with  a  corps 
of  fifteen  hundred  men.  To  oppose  these,  Gen.  Putnam 
had  only  a  picquet  of  150  men,  and  two  iron  field-pie 
ces,  without  horses  or  drag- ropes.  He,  however,  plant 
ed  his  cannon  on  the  high  ground,  by  the  meeting  house, 
and  retarded  their  approach  by  firing  several  times,  un 
til,  perceiving  the  horse  (supported  by  the  infantry) 
about  to  charge,  he  ordered  the  picquet  to  provide  for 
their  safety,  by  retiring  to  a  swamp  inaccessible  to 
horse,  and  secured  his  own,  by  plunging  down  the  steep 
precipice  at  the  church  upon  a  full  trot.  This  precipice 
is  so  steep,  where  he  descended,  as  to  have  artificial 
stairs,  composed  of  nearly  one  hundred  stone  steps,  for 
the  accommodation  of  foot  passengers.  There  the 
dragoons,  who  were  but  a  sword's  length  from  him  stop 
ped  short;  for  the  declivity  was  so  abrupt,  that  they 
ventured  not  to  follow;  and,  before  they  could  gain  the 
valley,  by  going  round  the  brow  of  the  hill  in  the  ordina 
ry  road,  he  was  far  enough  beyond  their  reach.  He. con 
tinued  his  route,  unmolested,  to  Stamford  ;  from  whence, 
having  strengthened  his  picquet  by  the  junction  of  some 
militia,  he  came  back  again,  and,  in  turn,  pursued  Gov 
ernor  Tryon  in  his  retreat.  As  he  rode  down  the 

; Allan's  Biographical  Doctionary. 

12 


•258  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

precipice,  one  ball,  of  the  enemy  fired  at  him,  went 
through  his  beaver;  but  Governor  Tryon,  by  way  of 
compensation  for  spoiling  his  hat,  sent  him  soon  after 
ward  as  a  present,  a  complete  suit  of  clothes."4 

The  campaign  of  1779,  which  was  principally  spent 
in  strengthening  the  works  at  West  point,  finished  the 
military  career  of  Putnam.  A  paralytic  affection  im 
paired  the  activity  of  his  body,  and  compelled  him  to 
quit  the  army. 

"The  remainder  of  the  life  of  Gen.  Putnam  was  pass 
ed  in  quiet  retirement  with  his  family.  He  experienced 
few  interruptions  in  his  bodily  health,  (except  the  para 
lytic  debility  with  which  he  was  afflicted,)  retained  full 
possession  of  his  mental  faculties,  and  enjoyed  the  so 
ciety  of  his  friends  until  the  17th  of  May,  1790,  when  he 
was  violently  attacked  with  an  inflammatory  disease. — 
Satisfied  from  the  first  that  it  would  prove  mortal,  he  was 
calm  and  resigned,  and  welcomed  the  approach  of  death 
with  joy,  as  a  messenger  sent  to  call  him  from  a  life  of 
toil  to  everlasting  rest.  On  the  19th  of  May,  1790,  he 
ended  a  life  which  had  been  spent  in  cultivating  and 
defending  the  soil  of  his  birth,  aged  72  years." 

The  late  Rev.  Dr.  Dwight,  president  of  Yale  College, 
who  knew  Gen.  Putnam  intimately,  has  portrayed  his 
character  faithfully,  in  the  following  inscription,  which  is 
engraven  on  his  tomb: 

Sacred  be  this  Monument 

to  the  memory  of 

ISRAEL  PUTNAM,  ESQ. 

senior  Major-General  in  the  armies  of  the 

United  States  of  America ; 

who 

was  born  at  Salem, 

in   the  Province  of  Massachausetts,  on  the  7th  day  of 
January,  A.  D.  1718, 

and  died 

on  the  19th  day  of  May;  A.  D.  1790. 
Passenger, 

*Life  of  Putnam. 


JOSEPH  REED.  259 

if  thou  art  a  Soldier,  drop  a  tear  over  the  dust  of  a 

Hero,  who, 
ever  attentive  to  the  lives  and  happiness  of  his  men, 

dared  to  lead 

where  any  dared  to   follow;  if  a  Patriot, 
remember  the   distinguished  and  gallant   services  ren 
dered  thy  country  by  the 
Patriot  who  sleeps  beneath  this  marble; 
if  thou  art  honest,  generous,  and  worthy,  render  a  cheer 
ful  tribute  of  respect  to  a  man, 
whose  generosity  was  singular,  whose  honesty 

was  proverbial ;  who 

raised  himself  to   universal  esteem,  and   offices  of  emi 
nent  distinction,  by  personal  worth, 
and  a  useful  life. 


JOSEPH  REED, 

Adjutant  General  in  the  American  Army. 

"JOSEPH  REED,  president  of  the  state  of  Pennsylvania, 
was  born  in  the  state  of  New-Jersey,  the  27th  of  Au 
gust,  A.  D.  1741.  In  the  year  1757,  at  the  early  age  of 
sixteen,  he  graduated  with  considerable  honour,  at 
Princeton  college. 

Having  studied  the  law  with  Richard  Stockton,  Esq. 
an  eminent  counsellor  of  that  place;  he  visited  Eng 
land  and  pursued  his  studies  in  the  temple,  until  the 
disturbances  which  first  broke  out  in  the  colonies  on  the 
passage  of  the  stamp  act.  On  his  return  to  his  native 
country,  he  commenced  the  practice  of  the  law,  and 
bore  a  distinguished  part  in  the  political  commotions  of 
the  day.  Having  married  the  daughtr  of  Dennis  De 
Berdt,  an  eminent  merchant  of  London,  and  before  the 
American  revolution,  agent  for  the  province  of  Massa 
chusetts,  he  soon  after  returned  to  America,  and  prac 
tised  the  law  with  eminent  success  in  the  city  of  Phila 
delphia. 

Finding  that  reconciliation  with  the  mother  country 
was  not  to  be  accomplished  without  the  sacrifice  of 
honour  as  well  as  liberty,  he  .became  one  of  the  most 
zealous  advocates  of  independence.  In  1774,  he  was 


260  JOSEPH  REED. 

appointed  one  of  the  committee  of  correspondence  ql 
Philadelphia,  and  afterward  president  of  the  convention, 
and  subsequently,  member  of  the  continental  congress. 
On  the  formation  of  the  army  he  resigned  a  lucrative 
practice,  which  he  was  enjoying  at  Philadelphia,  and 
repaired  to  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  where  he  was  ap 
pointed  aid-de-camp  and  secretary  to  General  Wash 
ington,  and  although  merely  acting  as  a  volunteer,  he 
displayed  in  this  campaign,  on  many  occasions,  the 
greatest  courage  and  military  ability.  At  the  opening 
of  the  campaign  in  1776,  on  the  promotion  of  General 
Gates,  he  was  advanced,  at  the  special  recommendation 
of  General  Washington,  to  the  post  of  adjutant  general, 
and  bore  an  active  part  in  this  campaign,  his  local 
knowledge  of  the  country  being  eminently  useful  in  the 
affair  at  Trenton,  and  at  the  battle  of  Princeton:  in  the 
course  of  these  events,  and  the  constant  follower  of  his 
fortunes,  he  enjoyed  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  the 
Commander  in  chief.  At  the  end  of  the  year  he  re 
signed  the  office  of  adjutant  general,  and  was  immedi 
ately  appointed  a  general  officer,  with  a  view  to  the 
command  of  cavalry,  but  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  rais 
ing  troops,  and  the  very  detached  parties  in  which  they 
were  employed,  he  was  prevented  from  acting  in  that 
station.  He  still  attended  the  army,  and  from  the  en 
trance  of  the  British  army  into  Pennsylvania,  till  the 
close  of  the  campaign  in  1777,  he  was  seldom  absent. 
He  was  engaged  at  the  battle  of  Germantown,  and  at 
White  iMarsh,  assisted  General  Potter  in  drawing  up  the 
militia.  In  1778,  he  was  appointed  a  member  of  Con 
gress  and  signed  the  articles  of  confederation. 

About  this  time  the  British  commissioners,  Governor 
Johnstone,  Lord  Carlisle,  and  Mr.  Eden,  invested  with 
the  power  to  treat  of  peace,  arrived  in  America,  and 
Governor  Johnstone,  the  principal  of  them,  addressed 
private  letters  to  Henry  Laurens,  Joseph  Reed,  Francis 
Dana,  and  Robert  Morris,  offering  them  many  advanta 
ges  in  case  they  would  lend  themselves  to  his  views. 
Private  information  was  communicated  from  Governor 
Johnstone  to  General  Reed,  that,  in  case  he  would  ex 
ert  his  abilities  to  promote  a  reconciliation,  10,000 


JOSEPH  REED.  26  1 

pounds  sterling,  and  the  most  valuable  office  in  the  col 
onies,  were  at  his  disposal ;  to  which  Mr.  Reed  made 
this  memorable  reply: — "that  he  was  not  worth  purcha 
sing,  but  that,  such  as  he  was,  the  king  of  Great  Britain 
was  not  rich  enough  to  do  it."  These  transactions  caused 
a  resolution  in  Congress,  by  which  they  refused  to 
hold  any  further  communication  with  that  commissioner. 
Governor  Johnstone,  on  his  return  to  England,  denied  in 
parliament,  ever  having  made  such  offers,  in  conse 
quence  of  which  General  Reed  published  a  pamphlet, 
in  which  the  whole  transaction  was  clearly  and  satis 
factorily  proved,  and  which  was  extensively  circulated 
both  in  England  and  America. 

In  1778,  he  was  unanimously  elected  president  of  the 
supreme  executive  council  of  the  state  of  Pennsylvania, 
to  which  office  he  was  elected  annually,  with  equal  una 
nimity,  for  the  constitutional  period  of  three  years. — 
About  this  time  there  existed  violent  parties  in  the  state, 
and  several  serious  commotions  occurred,  particularly  a 
large  armed  insurrection,  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 
which  he  suppressed,  and  rescued  a  number  of  distin 
guished  citizens  from  the  most  imminent  danger  of  their 
lives  at  the  risk  of  his  own,  for  which  he  received  a  vote 
of  thanks  from  the  legislature  of  the  state. 

At  the  time  of  the  defection  of  the  Pennsylvania  line, 
Governor  Reed  exerted  himself  strenuously  to  bring 
back  the  revolters,  in  which  he  ultimately  succeeded. 
Amidst  the  most  difficult  and  trying  scenes,  his  adminis 
tration  exhibited  the  most  disinterested  zeal  and  firm 
ness  of  decision.  In  the  civil  part  of  his  character,  his 
knowledge  of  the  law  was  very  useful  in  a  new  and  un 
settled  government;  so  that,  although  he  found  in  it  no 
small  weakness  and  confusion,  he  left  it  at  the  expira 
tion  of  his  term  of  office,  in  as  much  tranquility  and  en 
ergy  as  could  be  expected  from  the  time  and  circum- 
sces  of  the  war.  In  the  year  1781,  on  the  expiration 
of  his  term  of  office,  he  returned  to  the  duties  of  his 
profession. 

General  Reed  was  very  fortunate  in  his  military  ca 
reer,  for,  although  he  was  in  almost  every  engagement 
in  the  northern  and  eastern  section  of  the  union,  during 


262  JOSEPH    REED. 

the  war,  lie  never  was  wounded:  he  had  three  horses 
killed  under  him,  one  at  the  battle  of  Brandywine,  one 
in  the  skirmish  at  White  Marsh,  and  one  at  the  battle  of 
Monmouth.     During  the  whole  of  the  war  he  enjoyed 
the  confidence  of  Generals  Washington,  Greene,  Wayne, 
Steuben,  La  Fayette,  and  many  others  of  the  most  dis 
tinguished  characters  of  the  revolution,  with  whom  he 
was  in  the  habits  of  the  most  confidential  intercourse 
and  correspondence.     The  friendship  that  existed  be 
tween  General  Reed  and  General  Greene,  is  particularly 
mentioned  by  the  biographer  of  General  Greene.     "A- 
mong  the  many  inestimable  friends  who  attached  them 
selves  to  him,  during  his  military  career,  there  was  no 
one  whom  General  Greene  prized  more,  or  more  justly, 
than  the  late  Governor  Reed,  of  Pennsylvania.     It  was 
before  this  gentleman  had  immortalized  himself  by  his 
celebrated    reply  to  the  agent  of  corruption,  that  these 
two  distinguished   patriots  had    begun  to  feel  for  each 
other,  the  sympathies  of  congenial  souls.  Mr.  Reed  had 
accompanied  General   Washington  to  Boston,  when  he 
first  took  command  of  the  American  army ;  there  he  be 
came  acquainted  with  Greene,  and,  as  was  almost  inva 
riably  the  case  with  those  who  became  acquainted  with 
him,  and  had  hearts  to  acknowledge  his  worth,  a  friend 
ship  ensued  which   lasted  with  their  lives."     Had  the 
life  of  General    Reed  been   sufficiently  prolonged,  he 
would  have  discharged,  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  sub 
ject,  the  debt  of  national  gratitude  to  which  the  efforts 
of  the  biographer  of  General  Greene  have  been  success 
fully  dedicated,  who  had  in  his  possession  the  outlines 
of  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  General  Greene  by  this  friend. 
In  the  year  1784,  he  again  visited  England  for  the 
sake  of  his  health,  but  his  voyage  was  attended  with 
but  little  effect,  as  in  the  following  year  he  fell  a  victim 
to  the  disease,  most  probably  brought  on  by  the  fatigue 
and  exposure  to  which  he  was  constantly  subjected.   In 
private  life,  he  was  accomplished  in  his  manners,  pure 
in  his  morals,  fervent  and  faithful  in  his  attachments. 

On  the  5th  of  March,  1785,  in  the  43d  year  of  his 
age,  too  soon  for  his  country  and  his  friends,  he  depar 
ted  a  life,  active,  useful,  and  glorious.  His  remains 


PHILIP    SCHUYLEfc.  263 

were  interred,  in  the  Presbyterian  ground,  in  Arch-street, 
in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  attended  by  the  president 
and  executive  council,  and  the  speaker  and  the  general 
assembly  of  the  state." 


PHILIP  SCHUYLER, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  SCHUYLER  was  a  native  of  New-York,  a  member 
of  one  of  the  most  respectable  families  in  that  state, 
and  highly  merits  the  character  of  an  intelligent  and 
meritorious  officer.  As  a  private  gentleman  he  was 
dignified  but  courteous,  his  manners  urbane,  and  his  hos 
pitality  unbounded.  He  was  justly  considered  as  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  champions  of  liberty,  and  his 
noble  mind  soared  above  despair,  even  at  a  period  when 
he  experienced  injustice  from  the  public,  and  when  dark 
ness  and  gloom  overspread  the  land.  He  was  able, 
prompt,  and  decisive,  and  his  conduct  in  every  branch 
of  duty,  marked  his  active  industry  and  rapid  execution. 

He  received  his  commission  from  Congress,  June  19th, 
1776,  and  was  ordered  to  take  command  of  the  expedi 
tion  against  Canada;  but,  being  taken  sick,  the  com 
mand  devolved  upon  Gen.  Montgomery.  On  his  recove 
ry  he  devoted  his  time,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Gen. 
St.  Clair,  used  every  effort  to  stay  the  progress  of  a  vet 
eran  and  numerous  army  under  Burgoyne,  who  had  com 
menced  his  march  from  Canada,  on  the  bold  attempt  of 
forming  a  junction  at  Albany  with  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 

The  duties  of  Gen.  Schuyler  now  became  laborious, 
intricate,  and  complicated.  On  his  arrival  at  head  quar 
ters  he  found  the  army  of  the  north  not  only  too  weak 
for  the  objects  intrusted  to  it,  but  also  badly  supplied  with 
arms,  clothes,  and  provisions.  From  a  spy  he  obtained 
information  that  General  Burgoyne  had  arrived  at  Que 
bec,  and  was  to  take  command  of  the  British  force  on 
their  contemplated  expedition. 

"  A  few  days  removed  the  doubts  which  might  have 
existed  respecting  the  intentions  of  Burgoyne.  It  was 
understood  that  his  army  was  advancing  towards  the 
lakes. 


264  JOSEPH    SCHUYLER. 

General  Schuyler  was  sensible  of  the  danger  which 
threatened  his  department,  and  made  every  exertion  to 
meet  it.  He  visited  in  person  the  different  posts,  used 
the  utmost  activity  in  obtaining  supplies  of  provisions  to 
enable  them  to  hold  out  in  the  event  of  a  siege,  and  had 
proceeded  to  Albany  both  for  the  purpose  of  attending 
to  the  supplies  and  of  expediting  the  march  of  Nixon's 
brigade,  whose  arrival  was  expected;  when  he  received 
intelligence  from  Gen.  St.  Clair,  who  was  intrusted  with 
the  defence  of  Ticonderoga,  that  Burgoyne  had  appea 
red  before  that  place. 

In  the  course  of  the  preceding  winter  a  plan  for  pene 
trating  to  the  Hudson  from  Canada  by  the  way  of  the 
lakes,  was  completely  digested^  and  its  most  minute 
parts  arranged  in  the  cabinet  of  St.  James.  Gen.  Bur 
goyne,  who  assisted  in  forming  it,  was  intrusted  with  its 
execution,  and  was  to  lead  a  formidable  army  against 
Ticonderoga,  as  soon  as  the  season  would  permit.  At 
the  same  time  a  smaller  party,  under  Col.  St.  Leger, 
composed  of  Canadians,  new  raised  Americans,  and  a 
few  Europeans,  aided  by  a  powerful  body  of  Indians, 
was  to  march  from  Oswego,  to  enter  the  country  by  the 
way  of  the  Mohawk,  and  to  join  the  grand  army  on  the 
Hudson. 

The  force  assigned  for  this  service  was  such  as  the 
General  himself  deemed  sufficient;  and,  as  it  was  the 
favourite  plan  of  the  minister,  no  circumstance  was  omit 
ted  which  could  give  to  the  numbers  employed  their  ut 
most  possible  efficacy.  The  troops  were  furnished  with 
every  military  equipment  which  the  service  required; 
the  assisting  general  officers  were  of  the  first  reputation, 
and  the  train  of  artillery  was,  perhaps,  the  most  power 
ful  ever  annexed  to  an  armv  not  more  numerous.'"' 

But  valour,  perseverance,  and  industry  could  avail 
nothing  against  such  vast  numbers  as  now  assailed  the 
northern  army.  Ticonderoga  was  evacuated,  and  stores, 
artillery,  and  military  equipage,  to  an  immense  amount, 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

"  Knowing  the  inferiority  of  his  numbers,  and  that  he 
could  only  hope  to  save  his  army  by  the  rapidity  of  his 

*  Annual  Register. 


JOSEPH    SCHUYLER.  265 

march,  General  St.  Clair  reached  Charlestown,  thirty 
miles  from  Ticonderoga,  on  the  night  succeeding  the 
evacuation  of  the  fort. 

On  the  7th  of  July,  at  Stillwater,  on  his  way  to  Ti 
conderoga,  General  Schuyler  was  informed  of  the  evacu 
ation  of  that  place;  and  on  the  same  day,  at  Saratoga, 
the  total  loss  of  the  stores  at  Skeensborough,  was  also 
reported  to  him. — From  General  St.  Clair  he  had  heard 
nothing,  and  the  most  serious  fears  were  entertained  for 
the  army  commanded  by  that  officer.  His  force,  after  be 
ing  joined  by  Col.  Long,  consisted  of  about  fifteen  hun 
dred  continental  troops,  and  the  same  number  of  militia. 
They  were  dispirited  by  defeat,  without  tents,  badly  ar 
med,  and  had  lost  a  great  part  of  their  stores  and  bag 
gage.  That  part  of  the  country  was  generally  much 
alarmed,  and  even  those  who  were  well  affected  discov 
ered,  as  is  usual  in  such  circumstances,  more  inclination 
to  take  care  of  themselves,  than  to  join  the  army. 

Jn  this  gloomy  state  of  things,  it  is  impossible  that 
any  officer  could  have  used  more  diligence  or  judgment, 
than  was  displayed  by  Schuyler. 

After  the  evacuation  of  Fort  Anne,  Burgoyne  found  it. 
absolutely  necessary  to  suspend  for  a  time  all  further 
pursuit,  and  to  give  his  army  some  refreshment. 

In  the  present  state  of  things,  unable  even  to  look  the 
enemy  in  the  face,  it  was  of  unspeakable  importance  to 
the  American  general  to  gain  time.  This  short  and  un 
avoidable  interval  from  action,  therefore,  was  seized  by 
Schuyler,  whose  head-quarters  were  at  Fort  Edward, 
and  used  to  the  utmost  advantage. 

The  country  between  Skeensborough  and  Fort  Ed 
ward  was  almost  entirely  unsettled,  covered  with  thick 
woods,  of  a  surface  extremely  rough,  and  much  intersec 
ted  with  creeks  and  morasses.  As  far  as  Fort  Anne, 
Wood-creek  was  navigable  with  batteaux;  and  artille 
ry,  military  stores,  provisions,  and  heavy  baggage  might 
be  transported  up  it. 

The  first  moments  of  rest  while  Burgoyne  was  re-as 
sembling  his  forces  at  Skeensborough,  were  employed  by 
Schuyler  in  destroying  the  navigation  of  Wood-creek,  by- 
sinking  numerous  impediments  in  its  course ;  and  in 

K2 


266  JOSEPH    SCHUTLER. 

breaking  up  the  bridges,  and  otherwise  rendering  impas 
sable  the  roads  over  which  the  British  army  must  neces- 
sarilly  march.  He  was  also  indefatigable  in  driving 
all  the  live  stock  out  of  the  way,  and  in  bringing  from 
Fort  George  to  Fort  Edward,  ammunition  arid  other 
military  stores  which  had  been  deposited  at  that  place, 
of  which  his  army  was  in  much  need,  and  which  it  was 
essential  to  bring  away  before  the  British  could  remove 
their  gun  boats  and  army  into  the  luke,  and  possess 
themselves  of  the  fort. 

While  thus  endeavouring  to  obstruct  the  march  of  the 
enemy,  he  was  not  inattentive  to  the  best  means  of 
strengthening  his  own  army.  Reinforcements  of  regu 
lar  troops  were  earnestly  solicited.  The  militia  of  New- 
England  and  New-York  were  called  for,  and  all  his  in 
fluence  in  the  surrounding  country  was  exerted  to  reani 
mate  the  people,  and  to  prevent  their  defection  from  the 
American  cause. 

The  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga  was  a  shock  for 
which  no  part  of  the  United  States  was  prepared.  Nei 
ther  the  strength  of  the  invading  army  nor  of  the  garri 
son,  had  been  any  where  understood.  The  opinion  was 
common  that  no  reinforcements  had  arrived  at  Que 
bec  that  spring,  in  which  case  it  was  believed  that  not 
more  than  five  thousand  men  could  be  spared  from  the 
defence  of  Canada.  Those  new  raised  regiments  of 
New-England  and  New-York,  which  had  been  allotted 
to  the  northern  department,  had  been  reported,  and  were 
believed  by  the  Commander  in  chief,  and  by  Congress, 
as  well  as  by  the  community  at  hirge,  to  contain  a  much 
greater  number  of  effectives  than  they  were  found  actu 
ally  to  comprehend.  In  addition  to  these,  the  officer 
commanding  the  garrison,  was  empowered  to  call  to  his 
aid  such  bodies  of  militia  as  he  might  deem  necessary 
for  the  defence  of  his  post.  A  very  few  days  before 
the  place  was  invested,  General  Schuyler,  from  an  in 
spection  of  the  muster  rolls,  had  stated  the  garrison 
to  amount  to  five  thousand  men,  and  the  supply  of  pro 
visions  to  be  abundant.  When,  therefore,  it  was  under 
stood  that  a  place,  on  the  fortifications  of  which  much 
money  and  labour  had  been  expended;  which  was  con- 


JOSEPH    SCHUYLER.  267 

sidered  as  the  key  to  the  whole  western  country,  and 
supposed  to  contain  a  garrison  nearly  equal  to  the  inva 
ding  army,  had  been  abandoned  without  a  siege;  that 
an  immense  train  of  artillery,  consisting  of  one  hundred 
an.l  twenty-eight  pieces,  and  all  the  baggage,  military 
stores,  and  provisions,  had  either  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  or  been  destroyed;  that  the  army  on  its 
retreat  had  been  attacked,  defeated  and  dispersed;  as 
tonishment  pervaded  all  ranks  of  men;  and  the  conduct 
of  the  officers  was  almost  universally  condemned.  Con 
gress  directed  a  recall  of  all  the  generals  of  the  depart 
ment,  and  an  inquiry  into  their  conduct.  Through  New- 
England  especially,  the  most  malignant  aspersions  were 
cast  on  them;  and  General  Schuyler,  who,  from  some 
unknown  cause,  had  never  been  viewed  with  favour  in 
that  part  of  the  continent,  was  involved  in  the  common 
charges  of  treachery,  to  which  this  accumulation  of  un 
looked-for  calamity  was  very  generally  attributed  by 
the  mass  of  the  people. 

On  the  representations  of  General  Washington,  the 
recall  of  the  officers  was  suspended  until  he  should  be  of 
opinion  that  the  state  of  things  would  admit  of  such  a 
measure;  and  on  a  very  full  inquiry  afterward  made 
into  the  conduct  of  the  generals,  they  were  acquitted  of 
all  blame. 

When  the  resolutions  were  passed,  directing  an  inquiry 
into  the  conduct  of  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair,  appointing  a 
committee  to  report  on  the  mode  of  conducting  the  in 
quiry,  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  recalling  them  and  all  the 
brigadiers  who  had  served  in  that  department,  General 
Washington  was  requested  to  name  a  successor  to 
Schuyler.  On  expres*sing  a  wish  to  decline  this  nomi 
nation,  and  representing  the  inconvenience  of  remo 
ving  all  the  general  officers;  Gates  was  again  directed 
to  repair  thither,  and  take  the  command ;  and  the  reso 
lution  to  recall  the  brigadiers  was  su*peuded,  until  the 
Commander  in  chief  should  be  of  opinion  that  it  might 
be  carried  into  effect  with  safety. 

Schuyler  retained  the  command  until  the  arrival  of 
Gates,  which  was  about  the  21st  of  August,  and  con 
tinued  his  exertions  to  restore  the  affairs  of  the  depart- 


268  PHILIP    SCHUVLER. 

inent,  wliich  had  been  so  much  depressed  by  the  fosses 
consequent  on  the  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga.  That 
officer  felt  acutely  the  disgrace  of  being  recalled  in  this 
critical  and  interesting  state  of  the  campaign.  "  It  is," 
said  he  in  a  letter  to  the  Commander  in  chief,  "matter 
of  extreme  chagrin  to  me,  to  be  deprived  of  the  com 
mand  at  a  time  when,  soon  if  ever,  we  shall  probably  be 
enabled  to  face  the  enemy ;  when  we  are  on  the  point  of 
taking  ground*  where  they  must  attack  to  a  disadvan 
tage,  should  our  force  be  inadequate  to  facing  them  in  the 
field;  when  an  opportunity  will  in  all  probability  occur, 
in  which  I  might  evince  that  I  am  not  what  congress 
have  too  plainly  insinuated  by  the  resolution  taking  the 
command  from  me." 

If  error  be  attributed  to  the  evacuation  of  Ticonde- 
roga,  certainly  no  portion  of  it  was  committed  by  Schuy- 
ler.  His  removal  from  the  command  was  probably  un 
just  and  severe,  as  the  measure  respected  himself."f 

The  patriotism  and  magnanimity  displayed  by  the  ex- 
general,  on  this  occasion,  does  him  high  honour.  All 
that  could  have  been  effected,  to  impede  the  progress  of 
the  British  army,  had  been  done  already.  Bridges  were 
broken  up,  causeways  destroyed,  trees  felled  in  every 
direction  to  retard  the  conveyance  of  stores  and  artil 
lery. 

"On  Gate's  arrival  General  Schuyler,  without  the 
slightest  indication  of  ill  humour,  resigned  his  command, 
communicated  all  the  intelligence  he  possessed,  and  put 
every  interesting  paper  into  his  hands,  simply  adding,  4 
have  done  all  that  could  be  done,  as  far  as  the  means 
were  in  my  power,  to  injure  the  enemy,  and  to  inspire 
confidence  in  the  soldiers  of  our  own  army,  and  I  Hatter 
myself  with  some  success;  but  the  palm  of  victory  is 
denied  me,  and  it  is  left  to  you,  General,  to  reap  the  fruits 
of  my  labours.  I  will  not  fail,  however,  to  second  your 
views;  and  my  devotion  to  my  country  will  cause  me 
with  alacrity  to  obey  all  your  orders.'  He  performed 
his  promise,  and  faithfully  did  his  duty,  till  the  surrender 
of  Burgoyne  put  an  end  to  the  contest. 

The  island  on  the  north  of  the  Mohawk, 
f  Marshall's  life  of  Washington. 


JOHN  STARK.  269 

Another  anecdote  is  recorded  to  his  honour.  General 
Burgoyne,  dining  with  General  Gates  immediately  after 
the  convention  of  Saratoga,  and  hearing  Gen.  Schuyler 
named  among  the  officers  presented  to  him,  thought  it 
necessary  to  apologize  for  the  destruction  of  his  elegant 
mansion  a  few  days  before,  by  his  orders.  'Make  no  ex 
cuses,  General,'  was  the  reply ;  'I  feel  myself  more  than 
compensated  by  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  at  this  ta 
ble.'  "* 

The  court  of  inquiry,  instituted  on  the  conduct  of 
Generals  Schuyler  and  St. Glair,  resulted  with  the  high 
est  honour  to  them. 

General  Schuyler  though  not  invested  with  any  dis 
tinct  command,  continued  to  render  important  services 
in  the  military  transactions  of  New  York,  until  the  close 
of  the  war. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  old  congress ;  and  repre 
sented  the  state  of  New  York  in  the  senate  of  the  Uni 
ted  States,  when  the  present  government  commenced  its 
operations.  In  1797  he  was  again  appointed  a  senator. 

He  died  at  Albany,  November  18th,  1804,  in  the  sev 
enty-third  year  of  his  age. 


JOHN  STARK, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  STARK  was  a  native  of  New-Hampshire,  and  was 
born  in  Londonderry,  August  17th,  1728.  From  his 
early  youth  he  had  been  accustomed  to  the  alarm  of  war, 
having  lived  in  that  part  of  the  country  which  was  con 
tinually  subject  to  the  incursions  of  the  savages.  While 
a  child  he  was  captured  by  them,  and  adopted  as  one  of 
their  own  ;  but  after  a  few  years  was  restored. 

Arrived  at  manhood,  his  manners  were  plain,  honest, 
and  severe;  excellently  calculated  for  the  benefit  of  so 
ciety  in  the  private  walks  of  life:  and  as  a  courageous 
and  heroic  soldier,  he  is  entitled  to  a  high  rank  among 
those  who  have  been  crowned  with  unfading  laurels,  and 
to  whom  a  large  share  of  glory  is  justly  due.  He  was 

^Garden's  Anecdotes. 


270  JDHN  STARk. 

captain  of  a  company  of  rangers  in  the  provincial  ser 
vice,  during  the  French  war  in  1755. 

From  the  commencement  of  the  difficulties  with  the 
mother  country,  until  the  closing  scene  of  the  revolution, 
our  country  found  in  General  Stark  one  of  its  most  res 
olute,  independent,  and  persevering  defenders.  The 
first  call  of  his  country  found  him  ready.  When  the 
report  of  Lexington  battle  reached  him,  he  was  enga 
ged  at  work  in  his  saw-mill:  fired  with  indignation  and 
a  martial  spirit,  he  immediately  seized  his  musket,  and 
with  a  band  of  heroes  proceeded  to  Cambridge.  The 
morning  after  his  arrival  he  received  a  colonel's  commis 
sion,  and  availing  himself  of  his  own  popularity,  and 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  day,  in  two  hours  he  enlisted  eight 
hundred  men.  On  the  memorable  17th  of  June,  at 
Breed's  Hill,  Colonel  Stark,  at  the  head  of  his  back 
woodsmen  of  New-Hampshire,  poured  on  the  enemy 
that  deadly  fire  from  a  sure  aim,  which  effected  such  re 
markable  destruction  in  their  ranks,  and  compelled  them 
twice  to  retreat.  During  the  whole  of  this  dreadful 
conflict,  Colonel  Stark  evinced  that  consummate  brave 
ry  and  intrepid  zeal,  which  entitle  his  name  to  perpetu 
al  remembrance. 

His  spirit  pervaded  his  native  state,  and  excited  them 
to  the  most  patriotic  efforts.  The  British  General  Bur- 
goyne,  in  one  of  his  letters,  observes, — "That  the  Hamp 
shire  Grants,  almost  unknown  in  the  last  war,  now  a- 
bound  in  the  most  active  and  most  rebellious  race  on  the 
continent,  and  hang  like  a  gathering  storm  upon  ray 
left." 

Distinct  from  his  efforts  in  rallying  the  energies  of  his 
native  state,  he  obtained  great  credit  in  the  active  ope 
rations  of  the  field.  At  that  gloomy  period  of  the  rev 
olution,  the  retreat  of  Washington  through  New  Jersey 
in  1776,  when  the  saviour  of  our  country,  apparently 
deserted  of  Heaven  and  by  his  country,  with  the  few 
gallant  spirits  who  gathered  the  closer  around  him  in 
that  dark  hour,  precipitately  fled  before  an  imperious 
and  victorious  enemy — it  was  on  this  occasion,  that  the 
persevering  valour  of  Stark  enrolled  him  among  the 
firm  and  resolute  defenders  of  their  country ;  and,  with 
them,  entitles  him  to  her  unceasing  gratitude. 


JOHN  STARK.  271 

But  as  he  fearlessly  shared  with  Washington  the  dark 
and  gloomy  night  of  defeat,  so  also  he  participated  with 
him  in  the  joy  of  a  hright  morning  of  victory  and  hope. 
In  the  successful  enterprise  against  Trenton,  Stark,  then 
a  colonel,  acted  a  conspicuous  part,  and  covered  himself 
with  glory.  General  Wilkinson  in  his  memoirs  says, — 
"I  must  not  withhold  due  praise  from  the  dauntless 
Stark,  who  dealt  death  wherever  he  found  resistance, 
and  broke  down  all  opposition  before  him." 

Soon  after  this  affair.  Colonel  Stark,  from  some  sup 
posed  injustice  toward  him  on  the  part  of  congress,  quit 
ted  the  continental  service,  and  returned  to  New  Hamp 
shire. 

"When  he  was  urged  by  the  government  of  New 
Hampshire  to  take  the  command  of  their  militia,  he  re 
fused,  unless  he  should  be  left  at  liberty  to  serve  or  notr 
under  a  continental  officer,  as  he  should  judge  proper. 
It  was  not  a  time  for  debate,  and  it  was  known  that  the 
militia  would  follow  wherever  Stark  would  lead.  The 
assembly  therefore  invested  him  with  a  separate  com 
mand,  and  gave  him  orders  to  'repair  to  Charlestown,on 
Connecticut  River;  there  to  consult  with  a  committee 
of  the  New-Hampshire  Grants,  respecting  his  future  op 
erations,  and  the  supply  of  his  men  with  provisions;  to 
take  the  command  of  the  militia,  and  march  into  the 
Grants;  to  act  in  conjunction  with  the  troops  of  that 
new  state,  or  any  other  of  the  states,  or  of  the  United 
States,  or  separately  as  it  should  appear  expedient  to 
him ;  for  the  protection  of  the  people,  and  the  annoyance 
of  the  enemy.'* 

Agreeably  to  his  orders,  Stark  proceeded  in  a  few 
days  to  Charlestown;  his  men  very  readily  followed; 
and  as  fast  as  they  arrived,  he  sent  them  forward  to 
join  the  troops  of  Vermont  under  Colonel  Warner,  who 
had  taken  his  situation  at  Manchester.  At  that  place 
he  joined  Warner  with  about  800  men  from  New-Hamp 
shire,  and  found  another  body  of  men  from  Vermont,  who 
put  themselves  under  his  command;  and  he  was  at  the 
head  of  fourteen  hundred  men.  Most  of  them  had  been 

*Belknap's  History  N.  Hampshire. 


272  JOHN  STARK. 

in  the  two  former  campaigns,  and  well  officered:  a«d 
were  in  every  respect  a  body  of  very  good  troops. 
Schnyler  repeatedly  urged  Stark  to  join  the  troops  under 
his  command  ;  but  he  declined  complying.  He  was  led 
to  this  conduct  not  only  by  the  reasons  which  have  been 
mentioned,  but  by  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  best 
method  of  opposing  Burgoyne.  Schnyler  wished  to  col 
lect  all  the  American  troops  in  the  front,  to  prevent  Bur 
goyne  from  marching  on  to  Albany.  Stark  was  of  opin 
ion  that  the  surest  way  to  check  Burgoyne  was  to  have 
a  body  of  men  on  his  rear;  ready  to  fall  upon  him  in 
that  quarter,  whenever  a  favourable  opportunity  should 
present.  The  New-England  militia  had  not  formed  a 
high  opinion  of  Schuyler,  as  a  general;  and  Stark  meant 
to  keep  himself  in  a  situation,  in  which  he  might  em 
brace  any  favourable  opportunity  for  action,  either  in 
conjunction  with  him,  or  otherwise;  and  with  that  view 
intended  to  hang  on  the  rear  of  the  British  troops,  and 
embrace  the  first  opportunity  which  should  present,  to 
make  an  attack  upon  that  quarter.  But  Stark  assured 
Schuyler  that  he  would  join  in  any  measures  necessary 
to  promote  the  public  good,  but  wished  to  avoid  any 
thing  that  was  not  consistent  with  his  own  honour;  and 
if  it  was  thought  necessary,  he  would  march  to  his  camp. 
He  wrote  particularly,  that  he  would  lay  aside  all  pri 
vate  resentment,  when  it  appeared  in  opposition  to  the 
public  good.  But  in  the  midst  of  these  protestations, 
he  was  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  discover  his  cour 
age  and  patriotism,  by  falling  upon  some  part  of  Bur- 
goyne's  army. 

While  the  American  army  was  thus  assuming  a  more 
respectable  appearance,  General  Burgoyne  was  making 
very  slow  advances  towards  Albany.  From  the  twen 
ty-eighth  of  July  to  the  fifteenth  of  August,  the  British 
army  was  continually  employed  in  bringing  forward  bat- 
teaux,  provisions,  and  ammunition,  from  Fort  George  to 
the  first  navigable  part  of  Hudson's  River;  a  distance  of 
not  more  than  eighteen  miles.  The  labour  was  exces 
sive:  the  Europeans  were  but  little  acquainted  with  the 
methods  of  performing  it  to  advantage,  and  the  effect  was 
in  no  degree  equivalent  to  the  expense  of  labour  and 


JOHN  STARK.  273 

time.  With  all  the  efforts  that  Burgoyne  could  make, 
encumbered  with  his  artillery  and  baggage,  his  labours 
were  inadequate  to  the  purpose  of  supplying  the  army 
with  provisions  for  its  daily  consumption,  and  the  estab 
lishment  of  the  necessary  magazines.  And  after  his 
utmost  exertions  for  fifteen  days,  there  were  not  above 
four  days'  provisions  in  the  store,  nor  above  ten  bat- 
teaux  in  Hudson's  River. 

In  such  circumstances,  the  British  general  found  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  procure  sufficient  supplies  of 
provisions  by  the  way  of  Fort  George,  and  determined 
to  replenish  his  own  magazines,  at  the  expense  of  those 
of  the  Americans.  Having  received  information  that  a 
large  quantity  of  stores  were  laid  up  at  Bennington,  and 
guarded  only  by  the  militia,  he  formed  the  design  of  sur 
prising  that  place;  and  was  made  to  believe  that  as 
soon  as  a  detachment  of  the  royal  army  should  appear 
in  that  quarter,  it  would  receive  effectual  assistance 
from  a  large  body  of  loyalists,  who  only  waited  for  the 
appearance  of  a  support,  and  would  in  that  event  come 
forward  and  aid  the  royal  cause.  Full  of  these  expect 
ations,  he  detached  Colonel  Baum,  a  German  officer, 
with  a  select  body  of  troops,  to  surprise  the  place.  His 
force  consisted  of  about  five  hundred  regular  troops, 
some  Canadians,  and  more  than  one  hundred  Indians, 
with  two  light  pieces  of  artillery.  To  facilitate  their 
operations,  and  to  be  ready  to  take  advantage  of  the 
success  of  the  detachment,  the  royal  army  moved  along 
the  east  bank  of  Hudson's  River,  and  encamped  nearly 
opposite  to  Saratoga  ;  having  at  the  same  time  thrown  a 
bridge  of  rafts  over  the  river,  by  which  the  army  passed 
to  that  place.  With  a  view  to  support  Baum,  if  it  should 
be  found  necessary,  Lieutenant-Col.  Breyman's  ccrps, 
consisting  of  the  Brunswick  grenadiers,  light-infantry 
and  chasseurs,  were  posted  at  Battenkill. 

General  Stark  having  received  information  that  a 
party  of  Indians  were  at  Cambridge,  sent  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Greg,  on  August  the  thirteenth,  with  a  party  of 
two  hundred  men,  to  stop  their  progress.  Toward  night, 
he  was  informed  by  express  that  a  large  body  of  regu 
lars  was  in  the  rear  of  the  Indians,  and  advancing 

L2 


274  JOHN  STARK.     . 

j^  • 

toward  Bennington.  On  this  intelligence,  Stark  drew 
together  his  brigade,  and  the  militia  that  were  at  hand, 
and  sent  on  to  Manchester  to  Colonel  Warner,  to  bring 
on  his  regiment;  he  sent  expresses  at  the  same  time  to 
the  neighbouring  militia,  to  join  him  with  the  utmost 
speed.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  he  marched 
with  his  troops,  and  at  the  distance  of  seven  miles  he 
met  Greg  on  the  retreat,  and  the  enemy  within  a  mile  of 
him.  Stark  drew  up  his  troops  in  order  of  battle;  but 
the  enemy  coming  in  sight,  halted  upon  a  very  advanta 
geous  piece  of  ground.  Baum  perceived  the  Americans 
were  too  strong  to  be  attacked  with  his  present  force, 
and  sent  an  express  to  Burgoyne  with  an  account  of  his 
situation,  and  to  have  Breyman  march  immediately  to 
support  him.  In  the  mean  time  small  parties  of  the 
Americans  kept  up  a  skirmish  with  the  enemy,  killed 
and  wounded  thirty  of  them,  with  two  of  their  Indian 
chiefs,  without  any  loss  to  themselves.  The  ground  the 
Americans  had  taken,  was  unfavourable  fora  general 
action,  and  Stark  retreated  about  a  mile,  and  encamp*  d. 
A  council  of  war  was  held,  and  it  was  agreed  to  send 
two  detachments  upon  the  enemy's  rear,  while  the  rest 
of  the  troops  should  make  an  attack  upon  their  front 
The  next  day  the  weather  was  rainy,  and  though  it  pre 
vented  a  general  action,  there  were  frequent  skirmish 
ings  in  small  parties,  which  proved  favourable  and  en 
couraging  to  the  Americans, 

On  August  the  sixteenth,  in  the  morning,  Stark  was 
joined  by  Colonel  Symonds  and  a  body  of  militia  from 
Berkshire,  and  proceeded  to  attack  the  enemy,  agreea 
bly  to  the  plan  which  had  been  concerted.  Colonel 
Baum  in  the  mean  time  had  entrenched,  on  an  advanta 
geous  piece  of  ground  near  St.  Koicks  mills,  on  a  branch 
of  Hoosic  river;  and  rendered  his  post  as  strong  as  his 
circumstances  and  situation  would  admit.  Col.  Nichols 
was  detached  with  two  hundred  men  to  the  rear  of  his 
left,  Colonel  Herrick,  with  three  hundred  men  to  the 
rear  of  his  right;  both  were  to  join,  and  then  make  the 
attack.  Colonel  Hubbardand  Stickney,  with  two  hun 
dred  more  were  ordered  on  the  right,  and  one  hundred 
were  advanced  toward  the  front  to  draw  the  attention 


„    JOHN  STARK.  275 

• 

t*f  the  enemy  that  way.  About  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  the  troops  had  taken  their  station,  and  were 
ready  to  commence  the  action.  While  Nichols  and 
Herrick  were  bringing  their  troops  together,  the  Indians 
were  alarmed  at  the  prospect,  and  pushed  off  between 
the  two  corps;  but  received  a  fire  as  they  were  passing, 
by  which  three  of  them  were  killed,  and  two  wounded. 
Nichols  then  began  the  attack,  and  was  followed  by  all 
the  other  divisions;  those  in  the  front  immediately  ad 
vanced,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  action  became  gener 
al.  It  lasted  about  two  hours,  and  was  like  one  con 
tinued  peal  of  thunder.  Baum  made  a  brave  defence; 
and  the  German  dragoons,  after  they  had  expended  their 
ammunition,  led  by  their  colonel,  charged  with  their 
swords,  but  they  were  soon  overpowered.  Their  works 
were  carried  on  all  sides,  their  two  pieces  of  cannon 
were  taken,  Colonel  Baum  himself  was  mortally  wound 
ed  and  taken  prisoner,  and  all  his  men,  except  a  few, 
who  had  escaped  into  the  woods,  were  either  killed  or 
taken  prisoners.  Having  completed  the  business  by 
taking  the  whole  party,  the  militia  began  to  disperse  and 
look  out  for  plunder.  But  in  a  few  minutes  Stark  receiv 
ed  information  that  a  large  reinforcement  was  on  their 
march,  and  within  two  miles  of  him.  Fortunately  at 
that  moment  Colonel  Warner  came  up  with  his  regi 
ment  from  Manchester.  This  brave  and  experienced 
officer  commanded  a  regiment  of  continental  troops, 
which  had  been  raised  in  Vermont.  Mortified  that  he 
had  not  been  in  the  former  engagement,  he  instantly  led 
on  his  men  against  Breyman,  and  began  the  second  en 
gagement.  Stark  collected  the  militia  as  soon  as  possi 
ble,  and  pushed  on  to  his  assistance;.  Tne  action  be 
came  general,  and  the  battle  continued  odstinate  on  both 
sides  till  sunset,  when  the  Germans  were  forced  to  give 
way,  and  were  pursued  till  dark.  They  left  their  two 
field  pieces  behind,  and  a  considerable  number  were 
made  prisoners.  They  retreated  in  the  best  manner 
they  could,  improving  the  advantages  of  the  evening  and 
night,  to  which  alone  their  escape  was  ascribed. 

In  these  actions  the  Americans  took  four  brass  field- 
pieces,twelve  brass  drums, two  hundred  and  fifty  dragoon 


JOHN  STARK. 

swords,  four  ammunition  wagons,  and  about  seven  hun 
dred  prisoners,  with  their  arms  and  accoutrements. — 
Two  hundred  and  seven  men  were  found  dead  upon  the 
spot,  the  numbers  of  wounded  were  unknown.  The 
loss  of  the  Americans  was  but  small;  thirty  were  slain, 
and  about  forty  were  wounded.  Stark  was  not  a  little 
pleased  to  have  so  fair  an  opportunity  to  vindicate  his 
own  conduct.  He  had  now  shown  that  no  neglect 
from  congress  had  made  him  disaffected  to  the  Ameri 
can  cause,  and  that  he  had  rendered  a  much  more  im 
portant  service  than  he  could  have  done  by  joining 
Schuyler,  and  remaining  inactive  in  his  camp.  Con 
gress  embraced  the  opportunity  to  assign  to  him  his 
rank,  and  though  he  had  not  given  to  them  any  account 
of  his  victory,  or  wrote  to  them  at  all  upon  the  subject, 
on  October  the  fourth  they  resolved, — "That  the  thanks 
of  congress  be  presented  to  General  Stark  of  the  New- 
Hampshire  militia,  and  the  officers  and  troops  under  his 
command,  for  their  brave  and  successful  attack  upon, 
and  signal  victory  over  the  enemy  in  their  lines  at  Ben- 
nington:  and  that  Brigadier  Stark  be  appointed  a  briga 
dier  general  in  the  army  of  the  United  States."  And 
ntver  were  thanks  more  deserved,  or  more  wisely  given 
to  a  military  officer."1* 

In  his  official  account  of  the  affair,  General  Stark 
thus  writes: — "It  lasted  two  hours,  the  hottest  I  ever  saw 
in  my  life;  it  represented  one  continued  clap  of  thunder: 
however,  the  enemy  were  obliged  to  give  way,  and  leave 
their  field  pieces,  and  all  their  baggage  behind  them; 
they  were  all  environed  within  two  breast-works  with 
artillery ;  but  our  martial  courage  proved  too  strong  for 
them.  I  then  gave  orders  to  rally  again,  in  order  to  se 
cure  the  victory;  but  in  a  few  minutes  was  informed  that 
there  was  a  large  reinforcement  on  their  march,  within 
two  miles.  Colonel  Warner's  regiment,  luckily  coming 
up  at  the  moment,  renewed  the  attack  with  fresh  vigour. 
I  pushed  forward  as  many  of  the  men  as  I  could  to  their 
assistance;  the  battle  continued  obstinate  on  both  sides 
until  sunset;  the  enemy  was  obliged  to  retreat;  we 

William's  Vermont. 


JOHN   STARK. 

pursued   (hern    till    dark,  and   had  day  lasted  an   hour 
longer,  should  have  taken  the  svhole  body  of  them." 

"On  what  small  events  does  the  popular  humour  and 
military  success  depend  ?  The  capture  of  one  thousand 
Germans  by  General  Washington  at  Trenton,  had  served 
to  wake  up,  and  save  the  whole  continent.  The  exploit 
of  Stark  at  Bennington,  operated  with  the  same  kind  of 
influence,  and  produced  a  similar  effect.  This  victory 
was  the  first  event  that  had  proved  encouraging  to  the 
Americans  in  the  northern  department,  since  the  death  of 
General  Montgomery.  Misfortune  had  succeeded  mis 
fortune,  and  defeat  had  followed  defeat  from  that  peri 
od  till  now.  The  present  instance  was  the  first,  in 
which  victory  had  quitted  the  royal  standard,  or  seemed 
even  to  be  wavering.  She  was  now  found  with  the 
American  arms,  and  the  effect  seemed  in  fact  to  be 
greater  than  the  cause.  It  raised  the  spirit  of  the  coun 
try  to  an  uncommon  degree  of  animation;  and  by  show 
ing  the  militia  what  they  could  perform,  rendered  them 
willing  and  desirous  to  turn  out  and  try  what  fortunes 
would  await  their  exertions.  It  had  a  still  greater  ef 
fect  on  the  royal  army.  The  Btitish  generals  were  sur 
prised  to  hear  that  an  enemy,  whom  they  had  contem 
plated  with  no  other  feelings  than  those  of  contempt, 
should  all  at  once  wake  up,  and  discover  much  of  the 
spirit  of  heroism.  To  advance  upon  the  mouth  of  can 
non,  to  attack  fortified  lines,  to  carry  strong  entrench 
ments,  were  exploits  which  they  supposed  belonged  ex 
clusively  to  the  armies  of  kings.  To  see  a  body  of 
American  militia,  ill  dressed,  but  little  disciplined,  with 
out  cannon,  armed  only  with  farmers'  guns  without  bay 
onets,  and  who  had  been  accustomed  to  fly  at  their  ap 
proach;  that  such  men  should  force  the  entrenchments, 
capture  the  cannon,  kill  and  make  prisoners  of  a  large 
body  of  the  royal  army,  was  a  matter  of  indignation, 
astonishment,  and  surprise."* 

"General  Stark  volunteered  his  services  under  Gen. 
Gates  at  Saratoga,  and  assisted  in  the  council  which 
stipulated  the  surrender  of  General  Burgoyne,  nor  did 

^William's  Vermont, 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 

he  relinquish  his  valuable  services  till  he  could  greet 
his  native  country  as  an  independent  Empire.  General 
Stark  was  of  a  middle  stature,  not  formed  by  nature  to 
exhibit  an  erect  soldiery  mien.  His  manners  were 
frank,  and  unassuming,  but  he  manifested  a  peculiar 
sort  of  eccentricity  and  negligence,  which  precluded  all 
display  of  personal  dignity,  and  seemed  to  place  him 
among  those  of  ordinary  rank  in  life.  His  character  as 
a  private  citizen  was  unblemished,  and  he  was  ever 
held  in  respect.  For  the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  he 
enjoyed  a  pecuniary  bounty  from  the  government.  He 
lived  to  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-three  years  eight 
months  and  twenty-four  days,  and  died  May  8th, 
1822."* 


ARTHUlt  ST.  CLAIR, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GEN.  ST.  CLAIR  was  a  soldier  from  his  youth.  At  an 
«arly  age,  while  the  independent  states  were  yet  British 
colonies,  he  entered  the  royal  American  army,  and  was 
commissioned  as  an  ensign.  He  was  actively  engaged, 
during  the  French  war,  in  the  army  of  General  Wolfe, 
and  was  in  the  battle,  carrying  a  pair  of  colours,  in 
which  that  celebrated  commander  was  slain,  on  the 
plains  of  Abraham.  He  was  highly  esteemed,  by  the 
distinguished  commanders  under  whom  he  served,  as  a 
young  officer  of  merit,  capable  of  obtaining  a  high  grade 
ef  military  reputation. 

"After  the  peace  of  '63,  he  sold  out,  and  entered  into 
trade,  for  which  the  generosity  of  his  nature  utterly  dis 
qualified  him;  he,  of  course,  soon  became  disgusted  with 
a  profitless  pursuit,  and  having  married,  after  several 
vicissitudes  of  fortune,  he  located  himself  in  Ligonier 
valley,  west  of  the  Alleghany  mountain,  and  near  the 
ancient  route  from  Philadelphia  to  Pittsburgh. 

In  this  situation  the  American  revolution  found  him, 
surrounded  by  a  rising  family,  in  the  enjoyment  of  ease 
and  independence,  with  the  fairest  prospects  of  affluent 

"Thatcher's  Journal. 


ARTHTtJR  St.  CLAIR.  279 

fortune,  the  foundation    of    which  had  been   already 
established  by  his  intelligence,  industry,  and  enterprise. 

From  this  peaceful  abode,  these  sweet  domestic  en 
joyments,  and  the  flattering  prospects  which  accompani 
ed  them,  he  was  drawn  by  the  claims  of  a  troubled 
country.  A  man  known  to  have  been  a  military  officer, 
and  distinguished  for  knowledge  and  integrity,  could  m-t, 
in  those  times  be  concealed  even  by  his  favourite  moun 
tains,  and  therefore,  without  application  or  expectation 
on  his  part,  he  received  the  commission  of  a  colonel  in 
the  month  of  December,  1775,  together  with  a  letter 
from  President  Hancock,  pressing  him  to  repair  immedi 
ately  to  Philadelphia.  He  obeyed  the  summons,  and 
took  leave  not  only  of  his  wife  and  children,  but  in  effect 
of  his  fortune,  to  embark  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  the 
united  colonies.  In  six  weeks  he  completed  the  levy  of 
a  regiment  of  750  men;  six  companies  of  which  march-- 
ed  in  season  to  join  our  troops  before  Quebec;  he  fol 
lowed  with  the  other  four  in  May,  and  after  the  unlucky 
affair  at  Three  Rivers,  by  his  counsel  to  Gen.  Sullivan 
at  Sorel,he  saved  the  army  we  had  in  Canada."* 

The  active  and  persevering  habits  of  St.  Clair,  and 
the  military  knowledge,  as  displayed  by  him  during  the 
Canadian  campaign,  brought  him  into  high  repute,  and 
he  was  subsequently  promoted  to  the  rank  of  major  gen 
eral.  On  all  occasions  he  supported  an  honourable  dis 
tinction,  and  shared  largely  in  the  confidence  and  friend 
ship  of  the  Commander  in  chief. 

The  misfortunes  attending  the  early  military  opera 
tions  of  the  northern  campaign  of  1777,  did  not  fail  to 
bring  reproach  upon  the  characters  of  those  who  con 
ducted  it.  The  loss  of  Ticonderoga  and  Fort  Indepen 
dence,  and  the  subsequent  retreat  of  General  St.  Clair, 
cast  a  gloom  over  the  minds  of  patriotic  men,  and  in 
their  consequences  gave  rise  to  the  malignant  passions 
of  the  human  heart,  which  were  put  in  motion  to  depre 
ciate  the  worth,  impair  the  influence,  and  destroy  the 
usefulness  of  Generals  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair.  It  was 
proclaimed  that  they  were  traitors  to  their  country,  and 

^Wilkinson's  Memoirs'. 


280  A-RTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 

acted  in  concert  with  the  enemy;  and  the  ignorant  and 
the  credulous  were  led  to  believe  that  they  had  received 
an  immense  treasure  in  silver  balls,  fired  by  Burgoyne 
into  St.  Glair's  camp,  and  by  his  order  picked  up  and 
transmitted  to  Schuyler,  at  Fort  George!!  Extravagant 
as  was  this  tale,  it  was  implicitly  believed. 

At  the  time  of  the  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga  by  St. 
Clair,  which  so  much  exasperated  the  people,  General 
Schuyler  was  absent  upon  a  different  duty,  and  was  to 
tally  ignorant  of  the  fact,  though  the  commanding  officer 
in  that  district.  General  St.  (lair,  in  accordance  with 
the  opinion  of  a  council  of  war,  ordered  the  movement 
on  his  own  responsibility,  and  thereby  saved  the  state  of 
New  York  from  British  domination,  and  his  gallant 
army  from  capture.  Stung  with  the  injustice  of  a  charge 
against  General  Schuyler,  for  an  act  for  which  he  alone 
was  responsible,  he  magnanimously  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  the  Hon.  John  Jay,  on  the  subject: — 

"Moses*  Creek,  July  25,  1775. 

"Sin, — General  Schuyler  was  good  enough  to  read  to 
me  a  part  of  a  letter  he  received  last  night  from  you.  1 
cannot  recollect  that  any  of  my  officers  ever  asked  my 
reasons  for  leaving  Ticonderoga:  but  as  I  have  found 
the  measure  much  decried,  1  have  often  expressed  my 
self  in  this  manner: — "That  as  to  myself  I  was  perfect 
ly  easy;  I  was  conscious  of  the  uprightness  and  propri 
ety  of  my  conduct,  and  despised  the  vague  censure  of 
an  uninformed  populace;"  but  had  no  allusion  to  an  or 
der  from  General  Schuyler  for  my  justification,  because 
no  such  order  existed. 

"The  calumny  thrown  on  General  Schuyler,  on  ac 
count  of  that  matter,  has  given  me  great  uneasiness.  I 
assure  you,  Sir,  there  never  was  any  thing  more  cruel 
and  unjust;  for  he  knew  nothing  of  the  matter  until  it 
was  over,  more  than  you  did  at  Kingston.  It  was  done 
in  consequence  of  a  consultation  with  the  other  general 
officers,  without  the  possibility  of  General  Schuyler's 
concurrence;  and  had  the  opinion  of  that  council  been 
contrary  to  what  it  was,  it  would  nevertheless  have 
taken  place,  because  I  knew  it  to  be  impossible  to  de 
fend  the  post  with  our  numbers. 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR.  281 

"In  my  letter  to  congress  from  Fort  Edward,  in  which 
I  gave  them  an  account  of  the  retreat,  is  this  para 
graph: — 'It  was  my  original  design  to  retreat  to  this 
place,  that  I  might  be  betwixt  General  Burgoyne  and 
the  inhabitants,  and  that  the  militia  might  have  some 
thing  in  this  quarter  to  collect  to.  It  is  now  'effected, 
and  the  militia  are  coming  in,  so  that  I  have  the  most 
sanguine  hopes  that  the  progress  of  the  enemy  will  be 
checked,  and  I  may  have  the  satisfaction  to  experience, 
that  although  I  have  lost  a  post,  I  have  eventually  saved  a 
state? 

"Whether  my  conjecture  is  right,  or  not  is  uncertain; 
but  had  our  army  been  made  prisoners,  which  it  certain 
ly  would  have  been,  the  state  of  New  York  would  have- 
been  much  more  exposed  at  present. 

"I  proposed  to  General  Schuyler,  on  my  arrival  at 
Fort  Edward,  to  have  sent  a  note  to  the  printer,  to  as 
sure  the  people  he  had  no  part  in  abandoning  what  they 
considered  their  strong  holds;  he  thought  it  was  not  so 
proper  at  that  time,  but  it  is  no  more  than  what  I  owe  to 
truth  and  to  him  to  declare,  that  he  was  totally  unac 
quainted  with  the  matter;  and  I  should  be  very  glad 
that  this  letter,  or  any  part  of  it  you  may  think  proper 
to  communicate,  may  convince  the  unbelieving.  Simple 
unbelief  is  easily  and  soon  convinced,  but  when  malice 
or  envy  occasions  it,  it  is  needless  to  attempt  conviction. 
"I  am,  Sir, 

"Your  very  humble, 
"and  ob't.  Serv't. 

ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 
"Hon.  John  Jay." 

Congress,  yielding  to  personal  prejudices  and  the  pop 
ular  outcry,  produced  by  the  evacuation  of  that  post,  they 
passed  the  following  resolutions: — 

"Resolved,  That  an  inquiry  be  made  into  the  reasons 
of  the  evacuations  of  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  Indepen 
dence,  and  into  the  conduct  of  the  general  officers  who 
were  in  the  northern  department  at  the  time  of  the  evac 
uation. 

M2 


282  ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 

"Resolved,  That  Major  General  St.  Clair,  who  com 
manded  at  Ticonderoga  and  Mount  Independence,  forth 
with  repair  to  head -quarters." 

The  conduct  of  congress  towards  this  respectable, 
able,  and  faithful  servant  of  the  republic,  was  consider 
ed  altogether  unwarrantable,  and,  in  the  result,  drew 
great  and  deserved  odium  on  its  authors. 

After  holding  St.  Clair  in  cruel  suspense  for  more  than 
a  year,  he  was  permitted  to  appear  before  a  general 
court  martial,  which  passed  the  following  sentence  of 
acquital : — 

"Quaker- Hill,  Sepl.  29,  1778. 

"The  court  having  duly  considered  the  charges  against 
Major  General  St.  Clair,  and  the  evidence,  are  unani 
mously  of  opinion  that  he  is  NOT  GUILTY  of  either  of  the 
charges  preferred  against  him,  and  do  unanimously  ac 
quit  him  of  all  and  every  one  of  them,  with  the  HIGHEST 
HONOUR. 

"B.  LINCOLN, 
Maj.  Gen  and  President. 

From  this  time,  Gen.  St.  Clair  continued  in  the  ser 
vice  of  his  country  until  the  close  of  the  war.  Soon  af 
ter  the  establishment  of  the  national  government,  Gen. 
St.  Clair  was  appointed  Governor  of  the  North  West 
Territory.  But  he  did  not  long  enjoy  the  calm  and  qui 
et  of  civil  life.  The  repeated  successes  of  the  Indians, 
on  the  western  frontier,  had  emboldened  them  to  repeat 
and  extend  their  incursions  to  an  alarming  degree. 

"The  frontiers  were  in  a  most  deplorable  situation. — 
For  their  relief,  congress  sanctioned  the  raising  of  an 
additional  regiment;  and  the  President  was  authorised 
to  cause  a  body  of  two  thousand  men,  under  the  denom 
ination  of  levies,  to  be  raised  for  six  months,  and  to  ap 
point  a  major  general,  and  a  brigadier  general,  to  con 
tinue  in  command  as  long  as  he  should  think  their 
services  necessary.  St.  Clair,  who  was  then  governor 
of  the  territory,  northwest  of  the  Ohio,  and,  as  such, 
officially  the  negociator  with  the  adjacent  Indians,  was 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR.  283 

appointed  commander  in  chief  of  this  new  military 
establishment, — Though  every  exertion  was  made  to  re 
cruit  and  forward  the  troops,  they  were  not  assembled 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Fort  Washington,  until  the 
month  of  September;  nor  was  the  establishment  then 
completed. 

The  object  of  the  expedition  was,  to  destroy  the  In 
dian  villages  on  the  Miami;  to  expel  the  savages  from 
thrit  country;  and  to  connect  it  with  the  Ohio  by  a 
chain  of  posts.  The  regulars,  proceeding  northwardly, 
from  the  Ohio,  established,  at  proper  intervals,  two  forts, 
one  named  Hamilton,  and  the  other  Jefferson,  as  places 
of  deposit  and  security.  These  were  garrisoned  with 
a  small  force;  and  the  main  body  of  the  army,  about 
two  thousand  men,  advanced  towards  the  Indian  settle 
ments.  As  they  approached  the  enemy,  about  sixty 
militiamen  deserted,  in  a  body.  To  prevent  the  mis 
chiefs,  likely  to  result  from  so  bad  an  example,  Major 
Hamtrack  was  detached,  with  the  first  regiment,  to  pur 
sue  the  deserters.  The  army  was  reduced  by  this  de 
tachment,  to  about  fourteen  hundred  effective  men;  but 
nevertheless,  proceeded  on  their  march,  and  encamped 
on  elevated  ground,  about  15  miles  south  of  the  Miami. 
The  Indians  commenced  an  attack  on  the  militia  in 
front.  These  instantly  fled  in  disorder,  and  rushing  into 
the  camp,  occasioned  confusion  among  the  regulars. — 
The  officers  of  the  latter  exerted  themselves  to  restore 
order;  but  with  very  inconsiderable  success.  The  In 
dians  improved  the  advantage  they  had  gained.  They 
were  seldom  seen,  but  in  the  act  of  springing  from  one 
cover  to  another;  for  they  fired  from  the  ground,  or  un 
der  shelter  from  the  woods.  Advancing  in  this  manner 
close  to  the  lines  of  their  adversaries,  and  almost  to  the 
mouth  of  their  field-pieces  they  continued  the  contest, 
with  great  firmness  and  intrepidity. 

General  St.  Clair,  though  suffering  under  a  painful 
disease,  and  unable  to  mount  or  dismount  a  horse,  with 
out  assistance,  delivered  his  orders  with  judgment,  and 
perfect  self-possession.  The  troops  had  not  been  in  ser 
vice  long  enough  to  acquire  discipline ;  and  the  want  of 
it  increased  the  difficulty  of  reducing  them  to  order. 


, 

284  ARTHUR  ST.  CLA1R. 

after  they  had  been  broken.  The  officers,  in  their  zeal 
to  change  the  face  of  affairs,  exposed  themselves  to 
imminent  danger,  and  fell  in  great  numbers.  Attempts 
were  made  to  retrieve  the  fortune  of  the  day,  by  the  use 
of  the  bayonet.  Col.  Darke  made  a  successful  charge 
on  a  part  of  the  enemy,  and  drove  them  four  hundred 
yards;  but  they  soon  rallied.  In  the  mean  time.  Gen. 
Butler  was  mortally  wounded.  Almost  all  the  artiller 
ists  were  killed,  and  their  guns  seized  by  the  enemy. 
Col.  Darke  again  charged  with  the  bayonet,  and  the  ar 
tillery  was  recovered.  While  the  Indians  were  driven 
back  in  one  point,  they  kept  up  their  fire  from  every 
other,  with  fatal  effect.  Several  corps  charged  the  In 
dians  with  partial  success;  but  no  general  impression 
was  made  upon  them. 

To  save  the  remnant  of  his  army,  was  all  that  could 
be  done  by  St.  Clair.  After  some  hours  of  sharp  fight 
ing,  a  retreat  took  place.  The  Indians  pursued,  for 
about -four  miles,  when  their  avidity  for  plunder  called 
them  back  to  the  camp  to  share  the  spoil.  The  van 
quished  troops  fled  about  thirty  miles,  to  Fort  Jefferson. 
There  they  met  Major  Hamtrack,  with  the  first  regi 
ment;  but  this  additional  force  would  not  warrant  an 
attempt  to  turn  about  and  face  the  victors.  The  wound 
ed  were  left  there,  and  the  army  retreated  to  Fort  Wash 
ington. 

The  loss  in  this  defeat  was  great;  and  particularly 
so  among  the  officers.  Thirty-eight  of  these  were 
killed  on  the  field;  and  five  hundred  and  ninety-three 
non-commissioned  officers  and  privates  were  slain  or 
missing.  Twenty-one  commissioned  officers,  and  up 
wards  of  one  hundred  privates  were  wounded.  Among 
the  dead  was  the  gallant  General  Butler,  who  had  re 
peatedly  distinguished  himself  in  the  war  of  the  revolu 
tion.  Several  other  brave  officers,  who  had  successfully 
fought  for  the  independence  of  their  country,  fell  on 
this  fatal  day.  Among  the  wounded,  were  Lieutenant 
Colonels  Gibson  and  Darke,  Major  Butler,  and  Adjutant 
Sargent,  .officers  of  distinguished  merit.  Neither  the 
number  of  the  Indians  engaged,  nor  their  loss  could  be 
exactly  ascertained.  The  former  was  supposed  to  be 


JOHN  SULLIVAN.  285 

from  one  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred,  and  the  latter  far 
short  of  what  was  sustained  by  St.  Clair's  army."* 

Shorily  after  this  unfortunate  expedition,  General  St. 
Clair  resigned  his  commission  in  the  army,  and  retired 
into  private  life,  and  thus  remained  until  the  close  of  his 
life,  August  31st,  1818. 


JOHN  SULLIVAN, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

GENERAL  SULLIVAN  was  a  native  of  New-Hampshire, 
where  he  resided  before  the  revolution,  and  attained  to 
a  high  degree  of  eminence  in  the  profession  of  the  law. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  first  congress  in  1774,  but  on 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  preferring  a  military 
commission,  he  relinquished  the  fairest  prospect  of  for 
tune  and  fame,  and  appeared  among  the  most  ardent 
patriots,  and  intrepid  warriors. 

In  1775  he  was  appointed  a  brigadier  general,  and 
immediately  joined  the  army  at  Cambridge,  and  soon 
after  obtained  the  command  on  Winter  Hill.  The  next 
year  he  was  ordered  to  Canada,  and  on  the  death  of 
General  Thomas,  the  command  of  the  army  devolved  on 
him.  The  situation  of  the  army  in  that  quarter  was  in 
expressibly  distressing;  destitute  of  clothing,  dispirited 
by  defeat,  and  constant  fatigue,  and  a  large  proportion 
of  the  troops  sick  with  the  smallpox.  By  his  great  ex 
ertions  and  judicious  management  he  meliorated  the 
condition  of  the  army,  and  obtained  general  applause. 
On  his  retiring  from  that  command,  July,  12th,  1776,  the 
field  officers  thus  addressed  him.  "It  is  to  you,  sir,  the 
public  are  indebted  for  the  preservation  of  their  proper 
ty  in  Canada.  It  is  to  you  we  owe  our  safety  thus  far. 
Your  humanity  will  call  forth  the  silent  tear,  and  the 
grateful  ejaculation  of  the  sick.  Your  universal  impar 
tiality  will  force  the  applause  of  the  wearied  soldier." 

In  August,  1776,  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  ma 
jor  general,  and  soon  after  was,  with  Major  General 
Lord  Stirling,  captured  by  the  British  in  the  battle  on 

*Ramsay's  United  States. 


286  .K>HN  SULLIVAN. 

Long-Island.  General  Sullivan  being  paroled,  was  sent 
by  General  Howe  with  a  message  to  congress,  after 
which  he  returned  to  New-York  In  September  he  was 
exchanged  for  Major  General  Prescott.  We  next  find 
him  in  command  of  the  right  division  of  our  troops,  in 
the  famous  battle  at  Trenton,  and  he  acquitted  himself 
honourably  on  that  ever  memorable  day. 

In  August,  1777,  without  the  authority  of  congress,  or 
the  Commander  in  chief,  he  planned  and  executed  an 
expedition  against  the  enemy  on  Staten  Island.  Though 
the  enterprise  was  conducted  with  prudence  and  success 
in  part,  it  was  said  by  some  to  be  less  brilliant  than 
might  have  been  expected,  under  his  favourable  circum 
stances;  and  as  that  act  was  deemed  a  bold  assumption 
of  responsibility,  and  reports  to  his  prejudice  being  in 
circulation,  a  court  of  inquiry  was  ordered  to  investigate 
his  conduct.  The  result  was  an  honourable  acquittal, 
and  congress  resolved  that  the  result  so  honourable  to 
General  Sullivan  is  highly  pleasing  to  congress,  and  that 
the  opinion  of  the  court  be  published,  in  justification  of 
that  injured  officer. 

In  the  battles  of  Brandy  wine  and  Germantown,in  the 
autumn  of  1777,  General  Sullivan  commanded  a  division, 
and  in  the  latter  conflict  his  two  aids  were  killed,  and 
his  own  conduct  was  so  conspicuously  brave,  that  Gen. 
Washington,  in  his  letter  to  congress,  concludes  with 
encomiums  on  the  gallantry  of  General  Sullivan,  and 
the  whole  right  wing  of  the  army,  who  acted  immedi 
ately  under  the  eye  of  his  Excellency. 

In  August,  1778,  Gen.  Sullivan  who  was  sole  comman 
der  of  an  expedition  to  the  island  of  Newport,  in  co-ope 
ration  with  the  French  fleet  under  the  Count  D'Estaing. 
The  Marquis  de  La  Fayette  and  General  Greene  volun 
teered  their  services  on  the  occasion.  The  object  of 
the  expedition  was  defeated,  in  consequence  of  the 
French  fleet  being  driven  off  by  a  violent  storm.  By  this 
unfortunate  event  the  enemy  were  encouraged  to  engage 
our  army  in  battle,  in  which  they  suffered  a  repulse,  and 
General  Sullivan  finally  effected  a  safe  retreat  to  the 
main.  This  retreat,  so  ably  executed,  without  confu 
sion,  or  the  loss  of  baggage,  or  stores,  increased  the 


JOHN     SULLIVAN.  287 

military  reputation  of  General  Sullivan,  and  redounds 
to  his  honour  as  a  skilful  commander. 

The  bloody  tragedy  acted  at  Wyoming  in  1778,  had 
determined  the  Commander  in  chief,  in  1779,  to  employ 
a  large  detachment  from  the  continental  army  to  pene 
trate  into  the  heart  of  the  Indian  country,  to  chastise  the 
hostile  tribes  and  their  white  associates  and  adherents, 
for  their  cruel  aggressions  on  the  defenceless  inhabi 
tants.  The  command  of  this  expedition  was  committed 
to  Major  General  Sullivan,  with  express  orders  to  des 
troy  their  settlements,  to  ruin  their  crops,  and  make 
such  thorough  devastations,  as  to  render  the  country  en 
tirely  uninhabitable  for  the  present,  and  thus  to  compel 
the  savages  to  remove  to  a  greater  distance  from  our 
frontiers. 

General  Sullivan  had  under  his  command  several 
brigadiers,  and  a  well  chosen  army,  to  which  were  at 
tached  a  number  of  friendly  Indian  warriors.  With 
this  force  he  penetrated  about  ninety  miles  through  a 
horrid  swampy  wilderness  and  barren  mountainous  de 
serts,  to  Wyoming,  on  the  Susquehannah  river,  thence 
by  water  to  Tioga,  and  posessed  himself  of  numerous 
towns  and  villages  of  the  savages. 

During  this  hazardous  expedition,  General  Sullivan 
and  his  army  encountered  the  most  complicated  obsta 
cles,  requiring  the  greatest  fortitude  and  perseverance  to 
surmount.  He  explored  an  extensive  tract  of  country, 
and  strictly  executed  the  severe,  but  necessary  orders 
he  had  received.  A  considerable  number  of  Indians 
were  slain,  some  were  captured,  their  habitations  were 
burnt,  and  their  plantations  of  corn  and  vegetables  laid 
waste  in  the  most  effectual  manner.  "Eighteen  villages, 
a  number  of  detached  buildings,  one  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  bushels  of  corn,  and  those  fruits  and  vegeta 
bles  which  conduce  to  the  comfort  and  subsistence  of 
man,  were  utterly  destroyed.  Five  weeks  were  unre 
mittingly  employed  in  this  work  of  devastation." 

On  his  return  from  the  expedition,  he  and  his  army 
received  the  approbation  of  congress.  It  is  remarked 
on  this  expedition,  by  the  translator  of  M.  Chastelleux's 
travels,  an  Englishman  then  resident  in  the  United 


J*OHN    WARNER. 

States,  that  the  instructions  given  by  General  Sullivan 
to  his  officers,  the  order  of  march  he  prescribed  to  his 
troops,  and  the  discipline  he  had  the  ability  to  maintain, 
would  have  done  honour  to  the  most  experienced  ancient 
or  modern  generals. 

At  the  close  of  the  campaign  of  1779,  General  Sulli 
van,  in  consequence  of  impaired  health,  resigned  his 
commission  in  the  army.  Congress,  in  accepting  his 
resignation,  passed  a  resolve,  thanking  him  for  his  past 
services.  His  military  talents  and  bold  spirit  of  enter 
prise  were  universally  acknowledged.  He  was  fond  of 
display,  and  his  personal  appearance  and  dignified  de 
portment  commanded  respect.  After  his  resignation  he 
resumed  his  professional  pursuits  at  the  bar,  and  was 
much  distinguished  as  a  statesman,  politician,  and  pat 
riot.  He  acquired  very  considerable  proficiency  in  gen 
eral  literature,  and  an  extensive  knowledge  of  men  and 
the  world.  He  received  from  Harvard  university  a 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  and  from  the  university  of 
Dartmouth  a  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  He  was  one 
of  the  convention  who  formed  the  state  constitution  for 
New-Hampshire,  was  chosen  into  the  first  council,  and 
was  afterward  elected  chief  magistrate  in  that  state, 
and  held  the  office  for  three  years.  In  September,  1789, 
he  was  appointed  judge  of  the  district  court  for  the  dis 
trict  of  New-Hampshire,  and  continued  in  the  office  till 
his  death,  in  1795."* 


SETH  WARNER, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

"AMONG  the  persons  who  have  performed  important 
services  to  the  state  of  Vermont,  Colonel  Seth  Warner 
deserves  to  be  remembered  with  respect.  He  WHS  born 
at  Woodbury,  in  the  colony  of  Connecticut,  about  the 
year  1744,  of  honest  and  respectable  parents.  Without 
any  other  advantages  for  an  education  than  what  were 
to  be  found  in  the  common  schools  of  the  town,  he  was 
early  distinguished  by  the  solidity  and  extent  of  his  un.- 

*Thatcher's  Journal 


SETH    WARNER.  289 

ilerstanding.  About  the  year  1763,  his  parents  purchas 
ed  a  tract  of  land  in  Bennington,  and  soon  after  removed 
to  that  town  with  their  family.  In  the  uncultivated 
state  of  the  country,  in  the  fish,  with  which  the  rivers 
and  ponds  were  furnished,  and  in  the  game,  with  which 
the  woods  abounded,  young  Warner  found  a  variety  of 
objects  suited  to  his  favourite  inclinations  and  pursuits; 
and  he  soon  became  distinguished  as  a  fortunate  and 
indefatigable  hunter. 

His  father,  captain  Benjaman  Warner,  had  a  strong 
inclination  to  medicinal  inquiries  and  pursuits;  and 
agreeably  to  the  state  of  things  in  new  settlements,  had 
to  look  for  many  of  his  medicines  in  the  natural  virtues 
of  the  plants  and  roots,  that  were  indigenous  to  the 
country.  His  son  Seth  frequently  attended  him  in  these 
botanical  excursions,  contracted  something  of  his  fa 
ther's  taste  for  the  business,  and  acquired  more  informa 
tion  of  the  nature  and  properties  of  the  indigenous  plants 
and  vegetables, than  any  other  man  in  the  country.  By 
this  kind  of  knowledge  he  became  useful  to  the  families 
in  the  new  settiements,and  administered  relief  in  many 
cases,  where  no  other  medical  assistance  could  at  that 
time  be  procured.  By  such  visits  and  practice,  he 
became  known  to  most  of  the  families  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Green  Mountains;  and  was  generally  esteemed 
by  them  a  man  highly  useful  both  OH  account  of  his  in 
formation  and  humanity. 

About  the  year  1763,  a  scene  began  to  open,  which 
gave  a  new  turn  to  his  active  and  enterprising  spirit. 
The  lands  on  which  the  settlements  were  made,  had 
been  granted  by  the  governors  of  New-Hampshire. — 
The  government  of  New-York  claimed  jurisdiction  to 
the  eastward  as  far  as  Connecticut  river;  denied  the  au 
thority  of  the  governor  of  New-Hampshire  to  make  any 
grants  to  the  west  of  Connecticut  river;  and  announced 
to  the  inhabitants  that  they  were  within  the  territory  of 
New-York,  and  had  no  legal  titles  to  the  lands  on  which 
they  had  settled.  The  controversy  became  very  serious 
between  the  two  governments;  and  after  some  years 
spent  in  altercation,  New-York  procured  a  decision  of 
George  III.  in  their  favour.  This  order  was  dated  July 

N2 


290  SETH  WARNER. 

20,  1764,  and  declared,  "the  western  batiks  of  the  rivei 
Connecticut,  from  where  it  enters  the  province  of  Mas 
sachusetts  bay,  as  far  north  as  the  45th  degree  of  north 
ern  latitude,  to  be  the  boundary  line  between  the  said 
two  provinces  of  New  Hampshire  and  New-York."  No 
sooner  was  this  decree  procured,  than  the  governor  of 
New  York  proceeded  to  make  new  grants  of  the  lands, 
which  the  settlers  had  before  fairly  bought  of  the  crown, 
and  which  had  been  chartered  to  them  in  the  king's 
name  and  authority  by  the  royal  governor  of  New 
Hampshire.  All  became  a  scene  of  disorder  and  dan 
ger.  The  new  patentees  under  New  York  brought  ac 
tions  of  ejectment,  against  the  settlers.  The  decisions 
of  the  courts  at  Albany  were  always  in  favour  of  the 
New  York  patentees;  and  nothing  remained  for  the  in 
habitants  but  to  buy  their  lands  over  again,  or  to  give  up 
the  labours  and  earnings  of  their  whole  lives  to  the  new 
claimants  under  titles  from  New  York. 

In  this  scene  of  oppression  and  distress,  the  settlers 
discovered  the  firm  and  vigorous  spirit  of  manhood.  All 
that  was  left  to  them,  was  either  to  yield  up  their  whole 
property  to  a  set  of  unfeeling  land-jobbers,  or  to  defend 
themselves  and  property  by  force.  They  wisely  and 
virtuously  chose  the  latter;  and  by  a  kind  of  common 
consent,  Ethan  Allen  and  Seth  Warner  became  their 
leaders.  No  man's  abilities  and  talents  could  have 
been  better  suited  to  this  business  than  Warner's.  W  hen 
the  authority  of  New  York  proceeded  with  an  a.rmed 
force  to  attempt  to  execute  their  laws,  Warner  met  them 
with  a  body  of  Green  Mountain  Boys,  properly  armed, 
full  of  resolution,  and  so  formidable  in  numbers  and 
courage,  that  the  governor  of  New  York  was  obliged  to 
give  up  this  method  of  proceeding.  When  the  sheriff 
came  to  extend  his  executions,  and  eject  the  settlers 
from  their  farms,  Warner  would  not  suffer  him  to  pro 
ceed.  Spies  were  employed  to  procure  intelligence,  and 
promote  division  among  the  people:  when  any  of  them 
were,  taken,  Warner  caused  them  to  be  tried  by  some  of 
the  most  discreet  of  the  people;  and  if  declared  guilty, 
to  he  tied  to  a  tree  and  whipped.  An  officer  came  to 
take  Warner  by  force;  he  considered  it  as  an  affair  of 


3ETH    WARNEK.  29 1 


B(l  th( 


open  hostility  ;  engaged,  wounded,  and  disarmed  the  offi 
cer;  but,  with  the  honour  and  spirit  of  a  soldier,  spared 
the  life  of  the  enemy  he  had  subdued.     These  services 
appeared  in  a  very  different  light  to  the  settlers,  #nd  to 
the  government  of  New  York;  tne  first  considered  him 
as  an  eminent  patriot  and  hero;  to  the  other  he  appear 
ed  as  the  first  of  villains  and  rebels.     Toiyut  an  end  to 
all  further  exertions,  and  to   bring  him  to  an  exemplary 
punishment,  the   government  of  New    York,  on  March 
9th,  1774,  passed  an  act  of  outlawry  against  him;  and 
a  proclamation   was   issued  by  W.  Try  on,  governor  of 
New  York,  offering  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds  to  any  per 
son  who  should  apprehend  him.     These  proceedings  of 
New  York  were  beheld  by  him  with  contempt;  and  they 
had  no  other  effect  upon  the  settlers,  than  to  unite  them 
more  firmly  in  their  opposition  to  that  government,  and 
in    their   attachment,  to  their  own  patriotic  leader  thus 
wantonly  proscribed. 

In  services  of  so  dangerous  and  important  a  nature, 
Warner  was  engaged  from  the  year  1765  to  1775.  That 
year  a  scene  of  the  highest  magnitude  and  consequence 
opened  upon  the  world.  On  the  19th  of  April,  the 
American  war  was  begun  by  the  British  troops  at  Lex 
ington.  Happily  for  the  country,  it  was  commenced 
with  such  circumstances  of  insolence  and  cruelty,  as 
left  no  room  for  the  people  of  America  to  doubt  what 
was  the  course  which  they  ought  to  pursue.  The  time 
was  come,  in  which  total  subjection,  or  the  horrors  of 
war,  must  take  place.  All  America  preferred  the  lat 
ter;  and  the  people  of  the  New-Hampshire  Grants  im 
mediately  undertook  to  secure  the  British  forts  at  Ti- 
conderoga  and  Crown  Point.  Allen  and  Warner  im 
mediately  engaged  in  the  business.  Allen  took  the 
command,  and  Warner  raised  a  body  of  excellent  troops 
in  the  vicinity  of  Bennington,  and  both  marched  against 
Ticonderoga.  They  surprised  and  took  that  fortress  on 
the  morning  of  the  tenth  of  May;  and  Warner  was 
sent  the  same  day  with  a  detachment  of  the  troops  to 
secure  Crown  Point.  He  effected  the  business,  and  se 
cured  the  garrison,  with  all  the  warlike  stores,  for  the 
use  of  the  continent. 


292  SETH    WAUNEK. 

The  same  year  Warner  received  a  commission  from 
congress  to  raise  a  regiment,  to  assist  in  the  reduction  of 
Canada.  He  engaged  in  the  business  with  his  usual 
spirit  df  activity;  raised  his  regiment  chiefly  among  his 
old  acquaintances  and  friends,  the  Green  Mountain  Boys, 
and  joined  tlie  army  under  the  command  of  General 
Montgomery  The  Honourable  Samuel  Safford  of  Ben- 
nington,  was  his  lieutenant-colonel;  Their  regiment 
conducted  with  great  spirit,  and  acquired  high  applause, 
in  the  action  at  "Longueil,  in  which  the  troops  designed 
.for  the  relief  of  St.  Johns  were  totally  defeated  and  dis 
persed,  chiefly  by  the  troops  under  the  command  of  Col. 
Warner.  The  campaign  ended  about  the  20th  of  Nov. 
in  the  course  of  which  Ticonderoga,  Crown  Point, 
Chamblee,  St.  Johns,  Montreal,  and  a  fleet  of  eleven  sail 
©f  vessels  had  been  captured  by  the  American  arms. 
No  man  in  this  campaign  had  acted  with  more  spirit  and 
enterprise  than  Colonel  Warner.  Tiie  weather  was 
now  become  severe,  and  Warner's  men  were  too  miser 
ably  clothed  to  bear  a  winter's  campaign  in  the  severe 
'climate  of  Canada.  They  were  accordingly  now  dis 
charged  by  Montgomery  with  particular  marks  cf  his 
respect,  and  the  most  affectionate  thanks  for  their  meri 
torious  services. 

Warner  returned  with  his  men  to  the  New-Hampshire 
Grants,  but  his  mind  was  more  than  ever  engaged  in 
the  cause  of  his  country.  Montgomery  with  a  part  of 
his  army,  pressed  on  to  Quebec,  and  on  December  31st 
was  slain  in  an  attempt  to  carry  the  city  by  storm. — 
This  event  gave  an  alarm  to  all  the  northern  part  of  the 
colonies;  and  it  became  necessary  to  raise  a  reinforce 
ment  to  inarch  to  Quebec  in  the  midst  of  winter.  The 
difficulty  of  the  business  suited  the  genius  and  ardour  of 
Warner's  mind.  He  was  at  \\  oodbury,  in  Connecticut, 
when  he  heard  the  news  of  Montgomery's  defeat  and 
death;  he  instantly  repaired  to  Bennington,  raised  a  bo 
dy  of  men,  and  marched  in  the  midst  of  winter  to  join 
the  American  troops  at  Quebec,  The  campaign  during 
the  winter  proved  extremely  distressing  to  the  Ameri 
cans :  in  want  of  comfortable  clothing,  barracks,  and 
provisions,  most  of  them  were  taken  by  the  smallpox, 


SETH  WARNER.  293 

and  several  died.  At  the  opening  of  the  spring,  in  May, 
1776,  a  large  body  of  British  troops  arrived  at  Quebec 
to  relieve  the  garrison.  The  American  troops  were 
forced  to  abandon  the  blockade,  with  circumstances  of 
great  distress  and  confusion.  Warner  chose  the  most 
difficult  part  of  the  business,  remaining  always  with  the 
rear,  picking  up  the  lame  and  diseased,  assisting  and  en 
couraging  those  who  were  the  most  unable  to  take  care 
of  themselves,  and  generally  kept  but  a  few  miles  in 
advance  of  the  British,  who  were  rapidly  pursuing  the 
retreating  Americans  from  post  to  post.  By  steadily 
pursuing  this  conduct,  he  brought  off  most  of  the  inva 
lids;  and  with  this  corps  of  the  infirm  and  diseased,  he 
arrived  at  Ticonderoga,  a  few  days  after  the  body  of 
the  rirmy  had  taken  possession  of  that  post. 

H'^hly  approving  his  extraordinary  exertions,  the 
American  congress,  on  July  5th,  1776.  the  day  after  they 
had  declared  independence,  resolved  to  raise  a  regiment 
out  of  the  troops  which  had  served  with  reputation  in 
Canada.  Warner  was  appointed  colonel,  Safford  lieu 
tenant  colonel  of  this  regiment;  and  most  of  the  other 
officers  were  persons  who  had  been  distinguished  by 
their  opposition  to  the  claims  and  proceedings  of  New 
York.  By  this  appointment  he  was  again  placed  in  a 
situation  perfectly  agreeable  to  his  inclination  and  gen 
ius;  and  in  conformity  to  his  orders  he  repaired  to  Ti 
conderoga,  where  he  remained  till  the  close  of  the  cam 
paign. 

On  January  16,  1777,  the  convention  of  the  New- 
Hampshire  Grants  declared  the  whole  district  to  be  a 
sovereign  and  independent  state,  to  be  known  and  dis 
tinguished  ever  by  the  name  of  Vermont.  The  com 
mittee  of  safety  in  New  York  were  then  sitting,  and  on 
January  20th,  they  announced  the  transaction  to  con 
gress,  complaining  in  high  terms  of  the  conduct  of  Ver 
mont,  censuring  it  as  a  dangerous  revolt  and  opposition 
to  a  lawful  authority;  and  at  the  same  time*  remonstra 
ting  against  the  proceedings  of  congress  in  appointing 
Warner  to  the  command  of  a  regiment  independent  of 
the  legislature,  and  within  the  bounds  of  that  state; 
"especially,  said  they,  as  this  colonel  Warner  hath  been 


294  SETH    WARNER. 

constantly  and  invariably  opposed  to  the  legislature  of 
this  state,  and  hath  been,  on  that  account,  proclaimed 
an  outlaw  by  the  late  government  thereof.  It  is  abso 
lutely  necessary  to  recall  the  commissions  given  to  Col. 
Warner  and  the  officers  under  him,  as  nothing  else  will 
do  us  justice."  No  measures  were  taken  by  congress  at 
that  time,  either  to  interfere  in  the  civil  contest  between 
the  two  states,  or  to  remove  the  Colonel  from  his  com 
mand.  Anxious  to  effect  this  purpose,  the  convention 
of  New  York  wrote  further  on  the  subject,  on  March 
1st,  and  among  other  things  declare,  "that  there  was  not 
the  least  probability  that  Colonel  Warner  could  raise 
such  a  number  of  men  as  would  be  an  object  of  public 
concern."'  Congress  still  declined  to  dismiss  so  valuable 
an  officer  from  their  service.  On  June  23d,  congress 
was  obliged  to  take  up  the  controversy  between  New 
York  and  Vermont;  but  instead  of  proceeding  to  dis 
band  the  Colonel's  regiment,  on  June  30th,  they  resolv 
ed,  "that  the  reason  which  induced  congress  to  form 
that  corps,  was,  that  many  officers  of  different  states 
who  had  served  in  Canada,  and  alleged  that  they  could 
soon  raise  a  regiment,  but  were  then  unprovided  for, 
might  be  reinstated  in  the  service  of  the  United  States." 
Nothing  can  give  us  a  more  just  idea  of  the  sentiments 
which  the  American  congress  entertained  of  the  patri 
otic  and  military  virtues  of  the  Colonel,  than  their  re 
fusing  to  give  him  up  to  the  repeated  solicitations  and 
demands  of  so  respectable  and  powerful  a  state,  as  that 
of  New-York. 

The  American  army  stationed  at  Ticonderoga  were 
forced  to  abandon  that  fortress,  on  July  6,  1777,  in  a 
very  precipitate  and  irregular  manner.  The  Colonel 
with  his  regiment  retreated  along  the  western  part  of 
Vermont,  through  the  towns  of  Orwell,  Siidbury,  and 
Hnbardton.  At  the  last  of  these  towns,  the  advanced 
corps  of  the  British  army  overtook  the  rear  of  the  Amer 
ican  troops,  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  July.  The 
American  army,  all  but  part  of  three  regiments,  were 
gone  forward;  these  were  part  of  Hale's, Francis's, and 
Warner's  regiments.  The  enemy  attacked  them  with 
superior  numbers,  and  the  highest  prospect  of  success. 


SETH    WARNEIt  295 

Francis  and  Warner  opposed  them  with  great  spirit  and 
vigour;  and  no  of^cers  or  troops  could  have  discovered 
more  courage  and  firmness  than  they  displayed  through 
the  whole  action.  Large  reinforcements  of  the  enemy 
arriving,  it  became  impossible  to  make  any  effectual  op 
position.  Francis  fell  in  a  most  honourable  dischage 
of  his  duty.  Hale  surrendered  with  his  regiment.  Sur 
rounded  on  every  side  by  the  enemy,  but  calm  and  un 
daunted,  colonel  Warner  fought  his  way  through  all 
opposition,  brought  off  the  troops  that  refused  to  capitu 
late  with  Hale,  checked  the  enemy  in  their  pursuit,  and 
contrary  to  all  expectations,  arrived  safe  with  his  troops 
at  Manchester.  To  the  northward  of  that  town  the 
whole  country  was  deserted.  The  Colonel  determined 
to  make  a  stand  at  that  place ;  encouraged  by  his  exam 
ple  and  firmness,  a  body  of  the  militia  soon  joined  him; 
and  he  was  once  more  in  a  situation  to  protect  the  in 
habitants,  harass  the  enemy,  and  break  up  the  advanced 
parties. 

On  the  16th  of  August,  the  vicinity  of  Bennington 
became  the  seat  of  a  memorable  battle.  Colonel  Baum 
had  been  despatched  by  General  Burgoyne  to  attack 
the  American  troops  and  destroy  the  magazines  at  Ben 
nington.  General  Stark,  who  commanded  at  that  place, 
had  intelligence  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy:  and 
sent  orders  on  the  morning  of  the  16th  to  Col.  Warner 
at  Manchester,  to  march  immediately  to  his  assistance. 
In  the  mean  time  Stark,  with  the  troops  .which  were  as 
sembled  at  Bennington,  had  attacked  the  enemy  under 
Colonel  Baum,  and  after  a  severe  action  had  captured 
the  whole  body.  Just  as  the  action  was  finished,  intel 
ligence  was  received  that  a  large  reinforcement  of  the 
enemy  had  arrived.  Fatigued  and  exhausted  by  so 
long  and  severe  an  action,  Stark  was  doubtful  whether 
it  was  possible  for  his  troops  to  enter  immediately  upon 
another  battle  with  a  fresh  body  of  the  enemy.  At  that 
critical  moment  Warner  arrived  with  his  troops  from 
Manchester.  Mortified  that  he  had  not  been  in  the  ac 
tion,  and  determined  to  have  some  part  in  the  glory  of 
the  day,  he  urged  Stark  immediately  to  commence  an 
other  action.  Stark  consented,  and  the  Col.  instantly 


296  &ETH  WARNER. 

led  on  his  men  to  battle.  The  Americans  rallied  from 
every  part  of  the  field,  and  the  second  action  became  as 
tierce  and  decisive  as  the  first.  The  enemy  gave  way 
in  every  direction;  great  numbers  of  them  were  slain, 
and  the  rest  saved  themselves  altogether  by  the  dark 
ness  of  the  night.  Stark  ascribed  the  Ian  victory  very 
much  to  colonels  Warner  and  Herrick;  and  spoke  in 
the  highest  terms  of  their  superior  information  and  ac 
tivity,  as  that  to  which  he  principally  owed  his  success. 
The  success  at  Bennington  gave  a  decisive  turn  to  the 
affairs  of  that  campaign.  Stark,  Warner,  and  the  other 
officers,  with  their  troops,  joined  the  army  under  Gen. 
Gates.  Victory  every  where  followed  the  attempts  of 
the  northern  army;  and  the  campaign  terminated  in  the 
•surrender  of  Burgoyne  and  his  whole  army,  at  Saratoga, 
on  October  17,  1777. 

The  contest  in  the  northern  department  being  in  a 
great  measure  decided  by  the  capture  of  Bftrgoyne, 
Warner  had  no  further  opportunity  to  discover  his  prow 
ess  in  defence  of  his  beloved  state;  but  served  occasion 
ally  at  different  places  on  Hudson  river,  as  the  circum 
stances  of  the  war  required,  and  always  with  reputa 
tion.  Despairing  of  success  in  the  northern  parts,  the 
enemy  carried  the  war  into  the  southern  states;  and 
neither  New  York  nor  Vermont  any  longer  remained  the 
places  of  distinguished  enterprise.  But  such  had  been 
the"  fatigues  and  exertions  of  the  Colonel,  that  when  he 
returned  to  his  family  in  Bennington,  his  constitution, 
naturally  firm  and  vigorous,  appeared  tn  be  worn  down; 
and  nature  declined  under  a  complication  of  disorders, 
occasioned  by  the  exessive  labours  and  sufferings  he 
had  passed  through. 

Most  of  those  men  who  have  been  engaged  with  un 
common  ardour  in  the  cause  of  their  country,  have  been 
so  swallowed  up  with  the  patriotic  passion,  as  to  neglect 
that  attention  to  their  private  interests  which  other  men 
pursue  as  the  ruling  passion.  Thus  it  proved  with  Col. 
Warner:  intent  at  first  upon  saving  a  state,  and  after 
ward  upon  saving  a  country,  his  mind  was  so  entirely 
engaged  in  those  pursuits,  that  he,  had  not  made  that 
provision  for  his  family,  which  to  most  of  the  politicians 


JOSEPH    WARREN.  297 

land-jobbers  was  the  ultimate  end  of  all  their  meas 
ures  and  exertions.  With  a  view  the  better  to  support 
his  family  he  removed  to  Woodbury ;  where  in  the  year 
1785,  he  ended  an  active  and  useful  life,  in  high  estirna-- 
rion  among  his  friends  and  countrymen. 

His  family  had  derived  little  or  no  estate  from  his 
services.  After  his  death  they  applied  to  the  general 
assembly  of  Vermont  for  a  grant  of  land.  The  assem 
bly,  with  a  spirit  of  justice  and  generosity,,  remembered 
the  services  of  Col.  Warner,  took  up  the  petition,  and 
granted  a  valuable  tract  of  land  to  his  widow  and  fam 
ily:  a  measure  highly  honourable  to  the  memory  of  Col. 
Warner,  and  of  that  assembly,"* 


JOSEPH  WARREN, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

;iJoSEPH  WARREN  was  born  in  Roxbury,  near  Boston, 
in  the  year  1741.  His  father  was  a  respectable  far 
mer  in  that  place,  who  had  held  several  municipal  offi 
ces,  to  the  acceptance  of  his  fellow-citizens.  Joseph, 
with  several  of  his  brothers,  was  instructed  in  the  ele 
mentary  branches  of  knowledge,  at  the  public  gram- 
mer-school  of  the  town,  which  was  distinguished  for  its 
successive  instructers  of  superior  attainments.  In  1755, 
he  entered  college,  where  he  sustained  the  character 
of  a  youth  of  talents,  fine  manners,  and  of  a  generous 
independent  deportment,  united  to  great  personal  cour 
age  and  perseverance.  An  anecdote  will  illustrate  his 
fearlessness  and  determination  at  that  age,  when  char 
acter  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  formed.  Several  stu 
dents  of  Warren's  class  shut  themselves  in  a  room  to 
arrange  some  college  affairs,  in  a  way  which  they  knew 
was  contrary  to  his  wishes,  and  barred  the  door  so  ef 
fectually  that  he  could  not  without  great  violence  force 
it:  but  he  did  not  give  over  the  attempt  of  getting  among 
them;  for  perceiving  that  the  window  of  the  room  in 
which  they  were  assembled  was  open,  and  near  a  spout 
which  extended  from  the  roof  of  the  building  to  the 

^William's  Vermont. 
02 


298  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

ground,  he  went  to  the  top  of  the  house,  slid  down  the 
eaves,  seized  the  spout,  and  when  he  had  descended  as 
far  as  the  window,  threw  himself  into  the  chamber 
among  them.  At  that  instant  the  spout,  which  was  de 
cayed  and  weak,  gave  way  and  fell  to  the  ground.  He 
looked  at  it  without  emotion,  said  that  it  had  served  his 
purpose,  and  began  to  take  his  part  in  the  business.  A 
spectator  of  this  feat  and  narrow  escape  related  this 
fact  to  me  in  the  college-yard,  nearly  half  a  century  af 
terward  ;  and  the  impression  it  made  on  his  mind  was  so 
strong,  that  he  seemed  to  frcl  the  same  emotion  as 
though  it  happened  but  an  hour  before. 

On  leaving  college  in  17.09,  Warren  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  the  study  of  medicine,  under  the  direction  of 
Doctor  Lloyd,  an  eminent  physician  of  that  day,  whose 
valuable  life  has  been  protracted  almost  to  the  present 
time.  Warren  was  distinguished  very  soon  after  he 
commenced  practice;  for  when  in  1764,  the  smallpox 
spread  in  Boston,  he  was  among  the  most  successful  in 
his  method  of  treating  that  disease,  which  was  then 
considered  the  most  dreadful  scourge  of  the  human  race; 
and  the  violence  of  which  had  baffled  the  efforts  of  the 
learned  faculty  of  medicine  from  the  time  of  its  first 
appearance.  From  this  moment  he  stood  high  among 
his  brethren,  and  was  the  favourite  of  the  people;  and 
what  he  gained  in  their  good  will  he  never  lost.  Uis 
personal  appearance,  his  address,  his  courtesy,  and  his 
humanity,  won  the  way  to  the  hearts  of  all;  and  his 
knowledge  and  superiority  of  talents  secured  the  con 
quest.  A  bright  and  lasting  fame  in  his  profession,  with 
the  attendant  consequences,  wealth  and  influence,  were 
within  his  reach,  and  near  at  hand:  but  the  calls  of  a 
distracted  country  were  paramount  to  every  considera 
tion  of  his  own  interests,  and  he  entered  the  vortex  of 
politics,  never  to  return  to  the  peaceful  course  of  profes 
sional  labour. 

The  change  in  public  opinion  had  been  gradually 
preparing  the  minds  of  most  men  for  a  revolution.  This 
was  not  openly  avowed:  amelioration  of  treatment  for 
the  present,  and  assurances  of  kindness  in  future,  were 
all  that  the  colonies  asked  from  Great  Britain — but  these 


JOSEPH    WARREN.  299 

they  did  not  receive.  The  mother  country  mistook  the 
spirit  of  her  children,  and  used  threats  when  kindness 
would  have  been  the  best  policy.  When  Britain  de 
clared  her  right  to  direct,  govern,  and  tax  us  in  any 
form,  and  at  all  times,  the  colonies  reasoned,  remon 
strated,  and  entreated  for  a  while;  and  when  these 
means  did  not  answer,  they  defied  and  resisted.  The 
political  writers  of  the  province  had  been  active  and 
busy,  but  they  were  generally  screened  by  fictitious 
names,  or  sent  their  productions  anonymously  into  the 
world  :  but  the  time  had  arrived,  when  speakers  of  nerve 
and  boldness  were  wanted  to  raise  their  voices  against 
oppression  in  every  shape.  Warren  possessed  first-rate 
qualities  for  an  orator,  and  had  early  declared  in  the 
strongest  terms  his  political  sentiments,  which  were 
somewhat  in  advance  of  public  opinion;  for  he  held  as 
tyranny  all  taxation,  which  could  be  imposed  by  the 
British  parliament  upon  the  colonies.  In  times  of  dan 
ger,  the  people  are  sagacious,  and  cling  to  those  who 
best  can  serve  them;  and  every  eye  was  on  him  in  eve 
ry  emergency;  for  he  had  not  only  the  firmness  and  de 
cision  they  wished  for  in  a  leader,  but  was  prudent  and 
wary  in  all  his  plans.  His  first  object  was  to  enlighten 
the  people;  and  then  he  felt  sure  of  engaging  their  feel 
ings  in  the  general  cause.  He  knew  when  once  they 
began,  it  would  be  impossible  to  tread  back — indepen 
dence  only  would  satisfy  the  country.  With  an  inten 
tion  of  directing  public  sentiment,  without  appearing  to 
be  too  active,  he  met  frequently  with  a  considerable 
number  of  substantial  mechanics,  and  others  in  the  mid 
dling  classes  of  society,  who  were  busy  in  politics.  This 
crisis  required  such  a  man  as  they  found  him  to  be;  one 
who  could  discern  the  signs  or  the  times,  and  mould  the 
ductile  materials  to  his  will,  and  at  the  same  time  seem 
only  to  follow  in  the  path  of  others.  His  letter  to  Bar 
nard,  which  attracted  the  notice  of  government,  had 
been  written  several  years  before,  in  1768;  but  in  some 
form  or  other  he  was  constantly  enlightening  the  people 
by  his  pen:  but  it  is  now  difficult,  and  of  no  great  impor 
tance  to  trace  him  in  the  papers  of  that  period.  The 
public  was  not  then  always  right  in  designating  the 


300  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

authors  of  political  essays.  In  the  different  situations 
in  which  he  was  called  to  act,  he  assumed  as  many  char 
acters  as  fable  has  ever  given  to  the  tutelar  god  of  hi? 
profession*  and  like  him,  in  every  one  of  them  he  re- 
tciined  the  wisdom  to  guide,  and  the  power  to  charm. 
At  one  time  he  might  be  found  restraining  the  impetuos 
ity,  and  bridling  the  fury  of  those  hot-headed  politicians, 
who  felt  more  than  they  reasoned,  and  dared  to  do  more 
than  became  men.  Such  was  his  versatility,  that  he 
turned  from  these  lectures  of  caution  and  prudence,  to 
asserting  and  defending  the  most  bold  and  undisguised 
principles  of  liberty,  and  defying  in  their  very  teeth 
the  agents  of  the  crown.  Twice  he  was  elected  to  de 
liver  the  oration  on  the  5th  of  March,  in  commemora 
tion  of  the  massacre;  and  his  orations  are  among  the 
most  distinguished,  produced  by  that  splendid  list  of 
speakers  who  addressed  their  fellow-citizens  on  this  sub 
ject,  so  interesting  to  them  all.  In  these  productions, 
generally,  the  immediate  causes  of  this  event  were  over 
looked,  and  the  remote  ones  alone  were  discussed. — 
Here  they  were  on  safe  ground:  for  tyranny,  in  its  in 
cipient  stages,  has  no  excuse  from  opposition;  but  in  its 
inarch,  it  generally  finds  some  plausible  arguments  for 
its  proceedings,  drawn  from  the  very  resistance  it  natu 
rally  produces.  These  occasons  gave  the  orators  a  fine 
field  for  remark,  and  a  fair  opportunity  for  effect.  The 
great  orators  of  antiquity,  in  their  speeches,  attempted 
only  to  rouse  the  people  to  retain  what  they  possessed. 
Invective,  entreaty, and  pride  had  their  effect  in  assist 
ing  those  mighty  masters  to  influence  the  people.  They 
were  ashamed  to  lose  what  their  fathers  left  them,  won 
by  their  blood,  and  so  long  preserved  by  their  wisdom, 
their  virtues,  and  their  courage.  Our  statesmen  had  a 
harder  task  to  perform;  for  they  were  compelled  to  call 
on  the  people  to  gain  what  they  had  never  enjoyed — 
an  independent  rank  and  standing  among  the  nations  of 
the  world. 

His  next  oration  was  delivered  March  6th,  1775.  It 
was  at  his  own  solicitation  that  he  was  appointed  to 
this  duty  a  second  time.  The  fact  is  illustrative  of  his 
character,  and  worthy  of  remembrance.  Some  British 


JOSEPH  WARREN.  301 

officers  of  the  army  then  in  Boston,  had  publicly  de 
clared  that  it  should  be  at  the  price  of  the  life  of  any 
man  to  speak  of  the  event  of  March  5th,  1770,  on  that 
anniversary.  Warren's  soul  took  fire  at  such  a  threat, 
so  openly  made,  and  he  wished  for  the  honour  of  braving 
it.  This  was  readily  granted  ;  for  at  such  a  time  a  man 
would  probably  find  but  few  rivals.  Many  who  would 
spurn  the  thought  of  personal  fear,  might  be  apprehen 
sive  that  they  would  be  so  far  disconcerted  as  to  forget 
their  discourse.  It  is  easier  to  fight  bravely,  than  to 
think  clearly  or  correctly  in  danger.  Passion  sometimes 
nerves  the  nrm  to  fight,  but  disturbs  the  regular  current 
of  thought.  The  day  came,  and  the  weather  was  re 
markably  fine.  The  Old  South  Meeting-house  was 
crowded  at  an  early  hour.  The  British  officers  occupi 
ed  the  aisles,  the  flight  of  steps  to  the  pulpit,  and  sever 
al  of  them  were  within  it.  It  was  not  precisely  known 
whether  this  was  accident  or  design.  The  orator,  with 
the  assistance  of  his  friends,  made  his  entrance  at  the 
pulpit  window  by  a  ladder.  The  officers,  seeing  his 
coolness  and  intrepidity,  made  way  for  him  to  advance 
and  address  the  audience.  An  awful  stillness  preceded 
his  exordium.  Each  man  felt  the  palpitations  of  his  own 
heart,  and  saw  the  pale  but  determined  face  of  his  neigh 
bour.  The  speaker  began  his  oration  in  a  firm  tone  of 
voice,  and  proceeded  with  great  energy  and  pathos. 
Warren  and  his  friends  were  prepared  to  chastise  con 
tumely,  prevent  disgrace,  and  avenge  an  attempt  at  as 
sassination. 

The  scene  was  sublime;  a  patriot,  in  whom  the  flush 
of  youth,  and  the  grace  and  dignity  of  manhood  were 
combined,  stood  armed  in  the  sanctuary  of  God  to  ani 
mate  and  encourage  the  sons  of  liberty,  and  to  hurl  de 
fiance  at  their  oppressors.  The  orator  commenced  with 
the  early  history  of  the  country,  described  the  tenure 
by  which  we  held  our  liberties  and  property — the  affec 
tion  we  had  constantly  shown  the  parent  country,  and 
boldly  told  them  how,  and  by  whom  these  blessings  of 
life  had  been  violated.  There  was  in  this  appeal  to 
Britain — in  this  description  of  suffering,  agony,  and 
horror,  a  calm  and  high-souled  defiance  which  must  have 


302  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

chilled  the  blood  of  every  sensible  foe.  Such  another 
hour  has  seldom  happened  in  the  history  of  man,  and  is 
not  surpassed  in  the  records  of  nations.  The  thunders 
of  Demosthenes  rolled  at  a  distance  from  Philip  and  his 
host — and  Tully  poured  the  fiercest  torrent  of  his  invec 
tive  when  Catalme  was  at  a  distance,  and  his  dagger  no 
longer  to  be  feared:  but  Warren's  speech  was  made  to 
proud  oppressors,  resting  on  their  arms,  whose  errand  it 
was  to  overawe,  and  whose  business  it  was  to  fight. 

If  the  deed  of  Brutus  deserved  to  be  commemorated 
by  history,  poetry,  painting,  and  sculpture,  should  not 
this  instance  of  patriotism  and  bravery  be  held  in  last 
ing  remembrance?  If  he 

"That  struck  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world." 

was  hailed  as  the  first  of  freemen,  what  honours  are  not 
due  to  him,  who  undismayed  bearded  the  British  lion, to 
show  the  world  what  his  countrymen  dared  to  do  in  the 
cause  of  liberty?  If  the  statue  of  Brutus  was  placed 
among  those  of  the  gods,  who  were  the  presevers  of 
Roman  freedom,  should  not  that  of  Warren  fill  a  lofty 
niche  in  the  temple  reared  to  perpetuate  the  remem 
brance  of  our  birth  as  a  nation? 

If  independence  was  not  at  first  openly  avowed  by 
our  leading  men  at  that  time,  the  hope  of  attaining  it 
was  fondly  cherished,  and  the  exertions  of  the  patriots 
pointed  to  this  end.  The  wise  knew  that  the  stormr 
which  the  political  Prosperos  were  raising,  would  pass 
away  in  the  blood.  With  these  impressions  on  his 
mind,  Warren  for  several  years  was  preparing  himself 
by  study  and  observation,  to  take  a  conspicuous  rank  in 
the  military  arrangements  which  he  knew  must  ensue. 

On  the  18th  of  April,  1775,  by  his  agent  in  Boston, 
he  discovered  the  design  of  the  British  commander  to 
seize  or  destroy  our  few  stores  at  Concord.  He  instant 
ly  despatched  several  confidential  messengers  to  Lex 
ington.  The  late  venerable  patriot,  Paul  Revere,  was 
one  of  them.  This  gentleman  has  given  a  very  inter 
esting  account  of  the  difficulties  he  encountered  in  the 
discharge  of  this  duty.  The  alarm  was  given,  and  the 
militia,  burmng  with  resentment,  were  at  daybreak  on 


JOSEPH    \VARREtf,  303 

the  19th  on  the  road  to  repel  insult  and  aggression. — 
The  Dramii  was  opened  about  sunrise,  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  house  of  God,  in  Lexington.  Warren  has 
tened  to  the  field  of  action,  in  the  full  ardour  of  his  soul, 
and  shared  the  dangers  of  the  day.  While  pressing  on 
the  enemy,  a  musket-ball  took  off  a  lock  of  his  hair  close 
to  his  ear.  The  lock  was  rolled  and  pinned,  after  the 
fashion  of  that  day,  and  considerable  force  must  have 
been  necessary  to  have  cut  it  away.  The  people  were 
delighted  with  his  cool,  collected  bravery,  and  already 
considered  him  as  a  leader,  whose  gallantry  they  were 
to  admire,  and  in  whose  talents  they  were  to  confide. 
On  the  14th  of  June,  1775,  the  Provincial  Congress  of 
Massachusetts  made  him  a  major  general  of  their  for 
ces,  but  previous  to  the  date  of  his  commission,  he  had 
been  unceasing  in  his  exertions  to  maintain  order  and 
enforce  discipline  among  the  troops,  which  had  hastily 
assemble.!  at  Cambridge,  after  the  battle  of  Lexington. 
He  mingled  in  the  ranks,  and  by  every  method  and  ar 
gument  strove  to  inspire  them  with  confidence,  and  suc 
ceeded  in  a  most  wonderful  manner  in  imparting  to 
them  a  portion  of  the  flame  which  glowed  in  his  own 
breast.  At  such  a  crisis  genius  receives  its  birth  right — 
the  homage  of  inferior  minds,  who  for  self-preservation 
are  willing  to  be  directed.  Previous  to  receiving  the 
appointment  of  major  general,  he  had  been  requested  to 
take  the  office  of  physician  general  to  the  army,  but  he 
chose  to  be  where  wounds  were  to  be  made,  rather  than 
where  they  were  to  be  healed.  Yet  he  lent  his  aid 
and  advice  to  the  medical  department  of  the  army,  and 
was  of  great  service  to  them  in  their  organization  and 
arrangements. 

He  was  at  this  time  president  of  the  Provincial  Con 
gress,  having  been  elected  the  preceding  year  a  member 
from  the  town  of  Boston.  In  this  body  he  discoved  his 
extraordinary  powers  of  mind,  and  his  peculiar  fitness 
for  responsible  offices  at  such  a  juncture.  Cautious  in 
proposing  measures,  he  was  assiduous  in  pursuing  what 
he  thought,  after  mature  deliberation,  to  be  right,  and 
never  counted  the  probable  cost  of  a  measure,  when  he 
had  decided  that  it  was  necessary  to  be  taken,  When  this 


304  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

congress,  which  was  sitting  at  Watertown,  adjourned  for 
the  day,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  hastened  to  the 
camp.  Every  day  lhe  bought  golden  opinions  of  all 
sorts  of  men ;'  and  when  the  troops  were  called  to  act 
on  Breed's  Hill,  he  had  so  often  been  among  them,  that 
his  person  was  known  to  most  of  the  soldiers. 

Several  respectable  historians  have  fallen  into  some 
errors  in  describing  the  battle  in  which  he  fell,  by  giv 
ing  the  command  of  the  troops  on  that  day  to  Warren, 
when  he  was  only  a  volunteer  in  the  fight.  He  did  not 
arrive  on  the  battle  ground  until  the  enemy  had  com 
menced  their  movements  for  the  attack.  As  soon  as  he 
made  his  appearance  on  the  field,  the  veteran  comman 
der  of  the  day,  Colonel  Prescott,  desired  to  act  under 
his  directions,  but  Warren  declined  taking  any  other 
part  than  that  of  a  volunteer,  and  added  that  he  came 
to  learn  the  art  of  war  from  an  experienced  soldier, 
whose  orders  he  should  be  happy  to  obey.  In  the  bat 
tle  he  was  armed  with  a  musket,  and  stood  in  the  ranks. 
DOW  and  then  changing  his  place  to  encourage  his  fel 
low-soldiers  by  words  and  by  example.  He  undoubt 
edly,  from  the  state  of  hostilities,  expected  soon  to  act 
in  his  high  military  capacity,  and  it  was  indispensable, 
according  to  his  views,  that  he  should  share  the  dangers 
of  the  field  as  a  common  soldier  with  his  fellow-citi 
zens,  that  his  reputation  for  bravery  might  be  put  beyond 
the  possibility  of  suspicion.  The  wisdom  of  such  a 
course  would  never  have  been  doubted,  if  he  had  re 
turned  in  safety  from  the  fight.  In  such  a  struggle  for 
independence,  the  ordinary  rules  of  prudenee  and  cau 
tion  could  not  govern  those  who  were  building  up  their 
names  for  future  usefulness  by  present  exertion.  Some 
maxims  drawn  from  the  republican  writers  of  antiquity 
were  worn  as  their  mottos.  Some  precepts  descriptive 
of  the  charms  of  liberty,  were  ever  on  their  tongues,  and 
some  classical  model  of  Greek,  or  Roman  patriotism, 
was  constantly  in  their  minds.  Instances  of  great  men 
mixing  in  the  rank  of  common  soldiers,  were  to  be 
found  in  ancient  times,  when  men  fought  for  their  altars 
and  thier  homes.  The  cases  were  parallel,  and  the  ex 
amples  were  imposing.  When  the  battle  was  decided, 


JOSEPH    WARREN.  305 

and  our  people  fled,  Warren  was  one  of  the  last,  who 
left  the  breastwork,  and  was  slain  within  a  few  yards  of 
it  as  he  was  slowly  retiring.  He  probably  felt  mortified 
at  the  event  of  the  day,  but  had  he  known  how  dearly 
the  victory  was  purchased,  and  how  little  honor  was 
gained  by  those  who  won  it,  his  heart  would  have  been 
at  rest.  Like  the  band  of  Leonidas,  the  vanquished 
have  received  by  the  judgment  of  nations,  from  which 
there  is  no  appeal,  the  imperishable  laurels  of  victors. 
His  death  brought  a  sickness  to  the  heart  of  the  com 
munity,  and  the  people  mourned  his  fall,  not  with  the 
convulsive  agony  of  a  betrothed  virgin  over  the  bleeding 
corpse  of  her  lover — but  with  the  pride  of  the  Spartan 
mother,  who  in  the  intensity  of  her  grief,  smiled  to  see 
that  the  wounds  whence  life  had  flown,  were  on  the 
breast  of  her  son — and  was  satisfied  that  he  had  died  in 
defence  of  his  country.  The  worth  of  the  victim,  arid 
the  horror  of  the  sacrifice,  gave  a  higher  value  to  our 
liberties,  and  produced  a  more  fixed  determination  to 
preserve  them. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  has  often  been  described, 
and  of  late  its  minutest  details  given  to  the  public,  but 
never  was  the  military,  moral,  and  political  character 
of  that  gteat  event  more  forcibly  drawn,  than  in  the  fol 
lowing  extract  from  the  North  American  Review,  for 
July,  l«18: — 

"The  incidents  and  the  result  of  the  battle  itself,  were 
most  important,  and  indeed,  most  wonderful.  As  a  mere 
battle,  few  surpass  it  in  whatever  engages  and  interests 
the  attention.  It  was  fought  on  a  conspicuous  eminence, 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  a  populous  city; 
and  consequently  in  the  view  of  thousands  of  spectators. 
The  attacking  army  moved  over  a  sheet  of  water  to  the 
assault.  The  operations  and  movements  were  of  course 
all  visible  and  all  distinct.  Those  who  looked  on  from 
the  houses  and  heights  of  Boston  had  a  fuller  view  of 
every  important  operation  and  event,  than  can  ordinari 
ly  be  had  of  any  battle,  or  that  can  possibly  be  had  of 
such  as  are  fought  on  a  more  extended  ground,  or  by  de 
tachments  of  troops  acting  in  different  places,  and  at 
different  times,  and  in  some  measure  independently  of 

P2 


306  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

each  other.  When  the  British  columns  were  advan 
cing  to  the  attack,  the  flames  of  Charlestown,  (fired,  as 
is  generally  supposed,  by  a  shell)  began  to  ascend.  The 
spectators,  far  outnumbering  both  armies,  thronged  and 
crowded  on  every  height  and  every  point  which  afforded 
a  view  of  the  scene,  themselves  constituted  a  very  im 
portant  part  of  it. 

"The  troops  of  the  two  armies  seemed  like  so  many 
combatants  in  an  amphitheatre.  The  manner  which  they 
should  acquit  themselves,  was  to  be  judged  of,  not  as  in 
other  cases  of  military  engagements,  by  reports  and  fu 
ture  history,  but  by  a  vast  and  anxious  assembly  al 
ready  on  the  spot,  and  waiting  with  unspeakable  con 
cern  and  emotion  the  progress  of  the  day. 

"In  other  battles  the  recollection  of  wives  and  chil 
dren  has  been  used  as  an  excitement  to  animate  the 
warrior's  breast  and  nerve  his  arm.  iJere  was  not  a 
mere  recollection,  but  an  actual  presence  of  them  and 
other  dear  connexions,  hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  bat 
tle,  anxious  and  agitated,  feeling  almost  as  if  wounded 
themselves  by  every  blow  of  the  enemy,  and  putting 
forth,  as  it  were,  their  own  strength,  and  all  the  energy 
of  their  own  throbbing  bosoms,  into  every  gallant  effort 
of  their  warring  friends. 

"But  there  was  a  more  comprehensive  and  vastly 
more  important  view  of  that  day's  contest,  than  has 
been  mentioned, — a  view,  indeed,  which  ordinary  eyes, 
bent  intently  on  what  was  immediately  before  them,  did 
not  embrace,  but  which  was  perceived  in  its  full  extent 
and  expansion  by  minds  of  a  higher  order.  Those 
men  who  were  at  the  head  of  the  colonial  councils,  who 
had  been  engaged  for  years  in  the  previous  stages  of  the 
quarrel  with  England,  and  who  had  been  accustomed 
to  look  forward  to  the  future,  were  well  apprised  of  the 
magnitude  of  the  events  likely  to  hang  on  the  business 
of  that  day.  They  saw  in  it.  not  only  a  battle,  but  the 
beginning  of  a  civil  war,  of  unmeasured  extent  and  un 
certain  issue.  All  America  and  all  England  were  likely 
to  be  deeply  concerned  in  the  consequences.  The  indi 
viduals  themselves,  who  knew  full  well  what  agency 
they  had  had,  in  bringing  affairs  to  this  crisis,  had  need 


JOSEPH    WARREN.  307 

of  all  their  courage; — not  that  disregard  of  personal 
safety,  in  which  the  vulgar  suppose  true  courage  to  con 
sist,  but  that  high  and  fixed  moral  sentiment,  that  steady 
and  decided  purpose,  which  enables  men  to  pursue  a 
distant  end,  with  a  full  view  of  the  difficulties  and  dan 
gers  before  them,  and  with  a  conviction  that,  before  they 
arrive  at  the  proposed  end,  should  they  ever  reach  it^ 
they  must  pass  through  evil  report  as  well  as  good  re 
port,  and  be  liable  to  obloquy,  as  well  as  to  defeat. 

"Spirits,  that  fear  nothing  else,  fear  disgrace:  and  this 
danger  is  necessarily  encountered  by  those  who  engage 
in  civil  war.  Unsuccessful  resistance  is  not  only  ruin 
to  it  authors,  but  is  esteemed,  and  necessarily  so,  by 
the  laws  of  all  countries,  treasonable.  This  is  the  case, 
at  least  till  resistance  becomes  so  general  and  formidable 
as  to  assume  the  form  of  regular  war.  But  who  can 
tell,  when  resistance  commences,  whether  it  will  attain 
even  to  that  degree  of  success?  Some  of  those  per 
sons  who  signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence  in 
1776,  described  themselves  as  signing  it,  "as  with  hal 
ters  about  their  necks."  If  there  were  grounds  for  this 
remark  in  1776,  when  the  cause  had  become  so  much 
more  general,  how  much  greater  was  the  hazard,  when 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought? 

"These  considerations  constituted,  to  enlarged  and 
liberal  minds,  the  moral  sublimity  of  the  occasion ;  while 
to  the  outward  senses  the  movement  of  armies,  the  roar 
of  artillery,  the  brilliancy  of  the  reflection  of  a  summer's 
sun,  from  the  burnished  armour  of  the  British  columns, 
and  the  flames  of  a  burning  town,  made  up  a  scene  of 
extraordinary  grandeur." 

This  eminence  has  become  sacred  /ground.  It  con 
tains  in  its  bosom  the  ashes  of  the  brave  who  died  fight 
ing  to  defend  their  altars  and  their  homes.  Strangers 
from  all  countries  visit  this  spot,  for  it  is  associated  in 
their  memories  with  Marathon  and  Plataeae,  and  all  the 
mighty  struggles  of  determined  freemen.  Our  citizens 
love  to  wander  over  this  field — the  aged  to  awake  re 
collections,  and  the  youthful  to  excite  heroic  emotions. 
The  battle  ground  is  now  all  plainly  to  be  seen — the 
spirit  of  modern  improvement,  which  would  stop  the 


308  JOSEPH    WARREN. 

streams  of  Helicon  to  turn  a  mill,  anrl  cause  to  be  felled 
the  trees  of  Paradise  to  make  a  rafter,  has  yel  spared 
this  hallowed  height. 

If  "the  days  of  chivalry  be  gone  for  ever,"  and  the 
high  and  enthusiastic  feelings  of  generosity  and  magna 
nimity  be  not  so  widely  diffused  as  in  more  heroic  ages, 
yet  it  cannot  be  denied  but  that  there  have  been,  and 
still  are,  individuals  whose  bosoms  are  warmed  with  a 
spirit  as  glowing  and  ethereal  as  ever  swelled  the  heart 
of  "mailed  knight"  who  in  the  ecstacies  of  love,  religion 
and  martial  glory,  joined  the  war-cry  on  the  plains  of 
Palestine,  or  proved  his  steel  on  the  infidel  foe.  The 
history  of  every  revolution  is  interspersed  with  brilliant 
episodes  of  individual  prowess.  The  pages  of  our  own 
history,  when  fully  written  out,  will  sparkle  profusly  with 
these  gems  of  romantic  valour. 

The  calmness  and  indifference  of  the  veteran  "in 
clouds  of  dust,  and  seas  of  blood,"  can  only  be  acquired 
by  long  acquaintance  with  the  trade  of  death;  but  the 
heights  of  Charlestown  will  bear  eternal  testimony  ho  w 
suddenly,  in  the  cause  of  freedom  the  peaceful  citizen 
can  become  the  invincible  warrior — stung  by  oppression, 
he  springs  forward  from  his  tranquil  pursuits,  undaunted 
by  opposition,  and  undismayed  by  danger,  to  fight  even 
to  death  for  the  defence  of  his  rights.  Parents,  wives, 
children,  and  country,  all  the  hallowed  properties  of  ex 
istence,  are  to  him  the  talisman  that  takes  fear  irom  his 
heart,  and  nerves  his  arm  to  victory. 

In  the  requiem  over  those  who  have  fallen  in  the  cause 
of  their  country,  which 

"Time  with  bis  own  eternal  lips  shall  sing." 

the  praises  of  WARREN  shall  be  distinctly  heard. 

The  blood  of  those  patriots  who  have  fallen  in  the 
defence  of  Republics  has  often  "cried  from  the  ground" 
against  the  ingratitude  of  the  country  for  which  it  was 
sheil.  No  monument  was  reared  to  their  fame,  no  re 
cord  of  their  virtues  written ;  no  fostering  hand  extended 
to  their  offspring — but  they  and  their  deeds  were  neg 
lected  and  forgotten.  Toward  Warren  there  was  no 
ingratitude — our  country  is  free  from  this  stain.  Congress 


JOSEPH    WARREN.  309 

were  the  guardians  of  his  honour,  and  remembered  that 
his  children  were  unprotected  orphans.  Within  a  year 
after  his  death,  Congress  passed  the  following  resolu 
tions: — 

'That  a  monument  be  erected  to  the  memory  of  Gen 
eral  A  arren,  in  the  town  of  Boston,  with  the  following 
inscription: 

IN  HONOUR  OF 

JOSEPH  WARREN, 

Major  General  of  Massachusetts  Bay. 

He  devoted  his  Life  to  the 

liberties  of  his  country, 

And  in  bravely  defending  them. 

fell  an  early  victim  in  the 

BATTLE  OF  BUNKER  HILL, 

June   17,  1775. 
The  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  as   an  acknowledg 
ment  of  his  services  and 
distinguished  merit, 
have  erected  this 
monument  to  his 
memory. 

It  was  resolved  likewise,  'That  the  eldest  son  of  Gen, 
Warren  should  be  educated  from  that  time  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  United  States.'  On  the  first  of  July,  1780, 
congress  recognising  these  former  resolutions,  further  re 
solved,  'That  it  should  be  recommended  to  the  execu 
tive  of  Massachusetts  Bay  to  make  provision  for  the 
maintenance  and  education  of  his  three  younger  chil 
dren.  And  that  congress  would  defray  the  expense  to 
the  amount  of  the  half  pay  of  a  major  general,  to  com 
mence  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and  continue  till  the 
youngest  of  the  children  should  be  of  age.'  The  part  of 
the  resolutions  relating  to  the  education  of  the  children, 
was  carried  into  effect  accordingly.  The  monument  is 
not  yet  erected,  but  it  is  not  too  late.  The  shade  of  Wrar- 
ren  will  not  repine  at  this  neglect,  while  the  ashes  of 
Washington  repose  without  gravestone  or  epitaph."* 

•"Biographical  Sketches. 


PELEG     WADS  WORTH. 


PELEG  WADSWORTH, 

General  of  the  Massachusetts  Militia. 

"THE  following  is  an  abstract  of  an  interesting  narra 
tive  taken  from  the  travels  of  the  late  Dr.  Dwight. 

'After  the  failure  of  the  expedition  against  the  Brit 
ish  garrison  at  Penobscot,  General  Peleg  Wadsworth 
was  appointed  in  the  spring  of  1780,  to  the  command  of 
a  party  of  state  troops  in  Camden,  in  the  District  of 
Maine.  At  the  expiration  of  the  period  for  which  the 
troops  were  engaged,  in  February  following,  General 
Wadsworth  dsimissed  his  troops,  retaining  six  soldiers 
only  as  his  guard,  and  he  was  making  preparations  to 
depart  from  the  place.  A  neighbouring  inhabitant  com 
municated  his  situation  to  the  British  commander  at 
Penobscot,  and  a  party  of  twenty-five  soldiers,  com 
manded  by  Lieutenant  Stockton,  was  sent  to  make  him 
a  prisoner.  They  embarked  in  a  small  schooner,  and 
landing  within  four  miles  of  the  general's  quarters,  they 
were  concealed  at  the  house  of  one  Snow,  a  methodist 
preacher,  professedly  a  friend  to  him,  but  really  a  traitor, 
till  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  where  they  made  their 
arrangements  for  the  attack  on  the  general's  quarters. 
The  party  rushed  suddenly  on  the  sentinel,  who  gave 
the  alarm,  and  one  of  his  comrades  instantly  opened  the 
door  of  the  kitchen,  and  the  enemy  were  so  near  as  to 
enter  with  the  sentinel.  The  lady  of  the  general,  and 
her  friend  Miss  Fenno,  of  Boston,  were  in  the  house  at 
the  time;  and  Mrs.  Wadsworth  escaped  from  the  room 
of  her  husband  into  that  of  Miss  Fenno.  The  assail 
ants  soon  became  masters  of  the  whole  house,  except 
the  room  where  the  general  was,  and  which  was  strong 
ly  barred,  and  they  kept  up  a  constant  firing  of  musketry 
into  the  windows  and  doors,  except  into  those  of  the 
ladies'  room.  General  Wadsworth  was  provided  with  a 
pair  of  pistols,  a  blunderbuss,  and  a  fusee,  which  he  em 
ployed  with  great  dexterity,  being  determined  to  defend 
himself  to  the  last  moment.  With  his  pistols,  which  he 
discharged  several  times,  he  defended  the  windows  of 
his  room,  and  a  door  which  opened  into  the  kitchen. 
His  blunderbuss  he  snapped  several  times,  but  unfortu- 


PELEG    WADS  WORTH,  311 

nately  it  missed  fire ;  he  then  seized  his  fusee,  which  he 
discharged  on  some  who  were  breaking  through  one  of 
the  windows,  and  obliged  them  to  flee.  He  next  defen 
ded  himself  with  his  bayonet,  till  he  received  a  ball 
through  his  left  arm,  when  he  surrendered,  which  termi 
nated  the  contest.  The  firing,  however,  did  not  cease 
from  the  kitchen,  till  the  general  unbarred  the  door,  when 
the  soldiers  rushed  into  the  room ;  and  one  of  them,  who 
had  been  badly  wounded,  pointing  a  musket  at  his 
breast,  exclaimed  with  an  oath,  'you  have  taken  my  life, 
and  I  will  take  yours.'  But  Lieutenant  Stockton  turn 
ed  the  musket,  and  saved  his  life.  The  commanding 
officer  now  applauded  the  general  for  his  admirable  de 
fence,  and  assisted  in  putting  on  his  clothes,  saying, 
you  see  we  are  in  a  critical  situation;  you  must  excuse, 
haste.'  Mrs.  Wadsvvorth  threw  a  blanket  over  him, 
and  Miss  Fenno  applied  a  handkerchief  closely  around 
his  wounded  arm.  In  this  condition,  though  much  ex 
hausted,  he,  with  a  wounded  American  soldier,  was  di 
rected  to  march  on  foot,  while  two  British  wounded 
soldiers  were  mounted  on  a  horse  taken  from  the  gener 
al's  barn.  They  departed  in  great  haste.  When  they 
had  proceeded  about  a  mile,  they  met  at  a  small  house 
a  number  of  people  who  had  collected,  and  who  inqui 
red  if  they  had  taken  General  Wadsvvorth.  They  said 
no,  and  added  that  they  must  leave  a  wounded  man  in 
their  care;  and  if  they  paid  proper  attention  to  him, 
they  should  be  compensated;  but  if  not,  they  would  burn 
down  their  house;  but  the  man  appeared  to  be  dying. 
General  Wadsworth  was  now  mounted  on  the  horse,  be 
hind  the  other  wounded  soldier,  and  was  warned  that 
his  safety  depended  on  his  silence.  Having  crossed 
over  a  frozen  millpond,  about  a  mile  in  length,  they  were 
met  by  some  of  their  party  who  had  been  left  behind. 
At  this  place  they  found  the  British  privateer  which 
brought  the  party  from  the  fort:  the  captain,  on  being 
told  that  he  must  return  there  with  the  prisoner  and  the 
party,  and  seeing  some  of  his  men  wounded,  became 
outrageous,  and  damned  the  general  for  a  rebel,  de 
manded  how  he  dared  to  fire  on  the  king's  troops,  and 
ordered  him  to  help  launch  the  boat,  or  he  would  put  his 


312  I'ELEG     WADS  WORTH. 

hanger  through  his  body.  The  general  replied  that  he 
was  a  prisoner,  and  badly  wounded,  and  could  not  as 
sist  in  launching  the  boat.  Lieutenant  Stockton,  on  hear 
ing  of  his  abusive  treatment,  in  a  manner  honourable  to 
himself,  told  the  captain  that  the  prisoner  was  a  gentle 
man,  had  made  a  brave  defence,  and  was  to  be  treated 
accordingly,  and  added,  that  his  conduct  should  be  rep 
resented  to  General  Campbell.  After  this  the  captain 
treated  the  prisoner  with  great  civility,  and  afforded  him 
every  comfort  in  his  power.  General  Wadsworth  had 
left  the  ladies  in  the  house,  not  a  window  of  which  es 
caped  destruction.  The  doors  were  broken  down,  and 
two  of  the  rooms  were  set  on  fire,  the  floors  covered 
with  blood,  and  on  one  of  them  lay  a  brave  old  soldier 
dangerously  wounded,  begging  for  death,  that  he  might 
be  released  from  misery.  The  anxiety  and  distress  of 
Mrs.  Wadsworth  was  inexpressible,  and  that  of  the  gen 
eral  was  greatly  increased  by  the  uncertainty  in  his 
mind  respecting  the  fate  of  his  little  son,  only  five  years 
old,  who  had  been  exposed  to  every  danger  by  the  firing 
into  the  house;  but  he  had  the  happiness  afterward  to 
hear  of  his  safety.  Having  arrived  at  the  British  post, 
the  capture  of  General  W  adsworth  was  soon  announ 
ced,  and  the  shore  thronged  with  spectators,  to  see  the 
man  who,  through  the  preceding  year,  had  disappointed 
all  the  designs  of  the  British  in  that  quarter;  and  loud 
shouts  were  heard  from  the  rabble  which  covered  the 
shore;  but  when  he  arrived  at  the  fort,  and  was  conduct 
ed  into  the  officers' guard  room,  he  was  treated  with 
politeness.  General  Campbell,  the  commandant  of  the 
British  garrison,  sent  his  compliments  to  him,  and  a  sur 
geon  to  dress  his  wounds;  assuring  him  that  his  situation 
should  be  made  comfortable.  The  next  morning  Gen. 
Campbell  invited  him  to  breakfast,  and  at  table  paid 
him  many  compliments  on  the  defence  he  had  made, 
observing,  however,  that  he  had  exposed  himself  in  a 
degree  not  perfectly  justifiable.  General  Wadsworth 
replied,  that  from  the  manner  of  the  attack  he  had  no 
reason  to  suspect  any  design  of  taking  him  alive,  and 
that  he  intended  therefore  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as 
possible.  'But,  sir,'  says  Gen.  Campbell,  41  understand 


PELEG     WADS  WORTH.  313 

that  the  Captain  of  the  privateer  treated  you  very  ill;  I 
shall  see  that  matter  set  right.'  He  then  informed  the 
prisoner,  that  a  room  in  the  officers'  barracks  within  the 
fort  was  prepared  for  him,  and  that  he  should  send  his 
orderly  sergeant  daily  to  attend  him  to  breakfast  and 
dinner  at  his  table.  Having  retired  to  his  solitary  apart 
ment,  and  white  his  spirits  were  extremely  depressed 
by  a  recollection  of  the  past,  and  by  his  present  situa 
tion,  he  received  from  General  Campbell  several  books 
of  amusement,  and  soon  after  a  visit  from  him,  kindly 
endeavouring  to  cheer  the  spirits  of  his  prisoner  by  con 
versation.  Not  long  after,  the  officers  of  the  party 
called,  and  among  others  the  redoubtable  captain  of  the 
privateer,  who  called  to  ask  pardon  for  what  had  fallen 
from  him  when  in  a  passion:  adding  that  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  treat  a  gentleman  prisoner  ill ;  that  the  un 
expected  disappointment  of  his  cruise  had  thrown  him 
off  his  guard,  and  he  hoped  that  this  would  be  deemed 
a  sufficient  apology.  This  General  Wadsworth  ac 
cepted.  At  the  hour  of  dining  he  was  invited  to  the 
table  of  the  commandant,  where  he  met  with  all  the 
principal  officers  of  the  garrison,  and  from  whom  he  re 
ceived  particular  attention  and  politeness.  General 
Wadsworth  soon  made  application  to  the  commandant 
for  a  flag  of  truce,  by  which  means  he  could  transmit  a 
letter  to  the  governor  of  Massachusetts,  and  another  to 
Mrs.  Wadsworth:  this  was  granted,  on  condition  that 
the  letter  to  the  governor  should  be  inspected.  The 
flag  was  intrusted  to  Lieutenant  Stockton,  and  on  his 
return,  the  general  was  relieved  from  all  anxiety  res 
pecting  his  wife  and  family.  General  Campbell,  and 
the  officers  of  the  garrison,  continued  their  civilities  for 
some  time,  and  endeavoured,  by  books  and  personal  vis 
its,  to  render  his  situation  as  pleasant  as  circumstances 
would  admit  of.  At  the  end  of  five  weeks,  his  wound 
being  nearly  healed,  he  requested  of  General  Campbell 
the  customary  privilege  of  a  parole,  and  received  in 
reply,  that  his  case  had  been  reported  to  the  command 
ing  officer  at  New- York,  and  that  no  alteration  could  be 
made  till  orders  were  received  from  that  quarter.  In 
about  two  months.  Mrs.  Wadsworth  and  Miss  Frnno 

Q2 


314  PELKG     WADSWORTH, 

arrived;  and  General  Campbell,  and  some  of  the  (Tffi- 
cers,  contributed  to  render  their  visit  agreeable  to  all 
concerned.  About  the  same  time,  orders  were  received 
from  the  commanding  general  at  New  York,  which  were 
concealed  from  General  Wadsworth ;  but  he  finally  learnt 
that  he  was  not  to  be  paroled  nor  exchanged,  but  was 
to  be  sent  to  England  as  a  rebel  of  too  much  conse 
quence  to  be  at  liberty.  Not  long  afterward  Major  Ben 
jamin  Burton,  a  brave  and  worthy  man,  who  had  served 
under  General  Wadsworth  the  preceding  summer,  was 
taken  and  brought  into  the  fort,  and  lodged  in  the  same 
room  with  General  Wadsworth.  He  had  been  inform 
ed,  that  both  himself  and  the  general  were  to  be  sent, 
immediately  after  the  return  of  a  privateer,  now  out  on 
a  cruise,  either  to  New  York  or  Halifax,  and  thence  to 
England.  The  prisoners  immediately  resolved  to  make 
a  desperate  attempt  to  effect  their  escape.  They  were 
confined  in  a  grated  room  in  the  officers'  barracks,  with 
in  the  fort.  The  walls  of  this  fortress,  exclusively  of 
the  depth  of  the  ditch  surrounding  it,  were  twenty  feet 
high,  with  fraising  on  the  top,  and  chevaux  de  frise  at  the 
bottom.  Two  sentinels  were  always  in  the  entry,  and 
their  door,  the  upper  part  of  which  was  of  glass,  might 
pe  opened  by  these  watchmen  whenever  they  thought 
proper,  and  was  actually  opened  at  seasons  of  peculiar 
darkness  and  silence.  At  the  exterior  doors  of  the 
entries,  sentinels  were  also  stationed;  as  were  others  in 
the  body  of  the  fort,  and  at  the  quarters  of  General 
Campbell.  At  the  guard-house,  a  strong  guard  was 
daily  mounted.  Several  sentinels  were  stationed  on  the 
walls  or  the  fort,  and  a  complete  line  occupied  them  by 
night.  Without  the  ditch,  glacis  and  abattis,  another 
complete  set  of  soldiers  patroled  through  the  night,  also. 
The  gate  of  the  fort  was  shut  at  sunset,  and  a  piquet 
guard  was  placed  on  or  near  the  isthmus  leading  from 
the  fort  to  the  main  lafid. 

The  room  in  which  they  were  confined  was  railed 
with  boards.  One  of  these  they  determined  to  cut  off 
so  as  to  make  a  hole  large  enough  to  pass  through,  and 
then  to  creep  along  till  they  should  come  to  the  next  or 
middle  entry ;  and  then  lower  themselves  down  into  this 


PELEG     WADS  WORTH.  3l/> 

entry  by  a  blanket.  If  they  should  not  be  discovered, 
the  passage  to  the  walls  of  the  fort  was  easy.  In  the 
evening,  after  the  sentinels  had  seen  the  prisoners  retire 
to  bed,  General  Wadsworth  got  up  and  standing  on  a 
chair,  attempted  to  cut  with  his  knife  the  intended  open- 
in",  but  soon  found  it  impracticable.  The  next  day  by 
giving  a  soldier  a  dollar  they  procured  a  gimblet.  With 
this  instrument  they  proceeded  cautiously  and  as  silent 
ly  as  possible  to  perforate  the  board,  and  in  order  to 
conceal  every  appearance  from  their  servants  and  from 
the  officers  their  visiters,  they  carefully  covered  the 
gimblet  holes  with  chewed  bread.  At  the  end  of  three 
weeks  their  labours  were  so  far  completed  that  it  only 
remained  to  cut  with  a  knife  the  parts  which  were  left 
to  hold  the  piece  in  its  place.  When  their  preparations 
were  finished,  they  learned  that  a  privateer  in  which 
they  were  to  embark  was  daily  expected.  In  the  eve 
ning  of  the  18th  of  June,  a  very  severe  storm  of  rain, 
with  great  darkness  and  almost  incessant  lightning  came 
on.  This  the  prisoners  considered  as  the  propitious 
moment.  Having  extinguished  their  lights,  they  began 
to  cut  the  corners  of  the  board,  and  in  less  than  an  hour 
the  intended  opening  was  completed.  The  noise  which 
the  operation  occasioned  was  drowned  by  the  rain,  fal 
ling  on  the  roof.  (Major  Burton  first  ascended  to  the 
ceiling,  and  pressed  himself  through  the  opening.  Gen. 
Wadsworth  next,  having  put  the  corner  of  his  blanket 
through  the  hole  and  made  it  fast  by  a  strong  wooden 
skewer,  attempted  to  make  his  way  through,  standing 
on  a  chair  below,  but  it  was  with  extreme  difficulty  that 
he  at  length  effected  it,  and  reached  the  middle  entry. 
From  this  he  passed  through  the  door  which  he  founcl 
open,  and  made  his  way  to  the  wall  of  the  fort,  and  had 
to  encounter  the  greatest  difficulty  before  he  could  as 
cend  to  the  top.  He  had  now  to  creep  along  the  top 
of  the  fort  between  the  sentry  boxes  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  relief  was  shifting  sentinels,  but  the  falling  o( 
heavy  rain  kept  the  sentinels  within  their  boxes,  and  fa 
vored  his  escape.  Having  now  fastened  his  blanket  round 
a  picket  at  the  top,  he  let  himself  down  through  the 
chevaux  de  frise  to-  the  ground,  and  in  a.  manner  aston- 


316.  WILLIAM    WASHINGTON. 

ishing  to  himself  made  his  way  into  the  open  field. 
Here  he  was  obliged  to  grope  his  way  among  rocks, 
stumps,  and  brush,  in  the  darkness  of  night,  till  he  reach 
ed  the  cove;  happily  the  tide  had  ebbed  and  enabled 
him  to  cross  the  water  about  a  mile  in  breadth,  and  not 
more  than  three  feet  deep.  About  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  General  Wadsworth  found  himself  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  the  fort,  and  lie  proceeded  through  a  thick 
wood  and  brush  to  the  Penobscot  River,  and  after  pasr 
sing  some  distance  along  the  shore,  being  seven  miles 
from  the  fort,  to  his  unspeakable  joy  he  saw  his  friend 
Burton  advancing  towards  him.  Major  Burton  had 
been  obliged  to  encounter  in  his  course  equal  difficulties 
with  his  companion,  and  such  were  the  incredible  per 
ils,  dangers,  and  obstructions,  which  they  surmounted, 
that  their  escape  may  be  considered  almost  miraculous. 
It  was  now  necessary  they  should  cross  the  Penobscot 
River,  and  very  fortunately  they  discovered  a  canoe 
with  oars  on  the  shore  suited  to  their  purpose.  While 
on  the  river  they  discovered  a  barge  with  a  party  of 
British  from  the  fort  in  pursuit  of  them,  but  by  taking 
an  oblique  course,  and  plying  their  oars  to  the  utmost, 
they  happily  eluded  the  eyes  of  their  pursuers  and  arri 
ved  safe  on  the  western  shore.  After  having  wandered 
in  the  wilderness  for  several  days  and  nights,  exposed  to 
extreme  fatigue  and  cold,  and  with  no  other  food  than  a 
little  dry  bread  and  meat,  which  they  brought  in  their 
pockets  from  the  fort,  they  reached  the  settlements  on 
the  River  St.  George,  and  no  further  difficulties  attended 
their  return  to  their  respective  families."* 


WILLIAM  W  .\SIIINGTON, 

Colonel  in  the  American  Army. 

"  HE  was  the  eldest  son  of  Baily  Washington,  Esq. 
of  Stafford  county,  in  the  state  of  Virginia;  and  belong 
ed  to  a  younger  branch  of  the  original  Washington 
family. 

'Thatcher's  Journal 


,        WILLIAM    WASHINGTON. 

III  the  commencement  of  the  war,  and  at  an  early 
period  of  life,  he  had  entered  the  army,  as  captain  of  a 
company  of  infantry  under  the  command  of  General 
Mercer.  In  this  corps,  he  had  acquired  from  actual  ser 
vice  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  profession  of  arms. 

He  fought  in  the  battle  of  Long  Island;  and,  in  his 
retreat  through  New-Jersey,  accompanied  his  great  kins 
man,  cheerful  under  the  gloom,  coolly  confronting  the 
danger,  and  bearing,  with  exemplary  fortitude  and  firm 
ness,  the  heavy  misfortunes  and  privations  of  the  time. 

In  the  successful  attack  on  the  British  post  at  Tren 
ton,  Captain  Washington  acted  a  brilliant  and  most  im 
portant  part.  Perceiving  the  enemy  about  to  form  a 
battery,  and  point  it  into  a  narrow  street,  against  the 
advancing  American  column,  he  charged  them  at  the 
head  of  his  company,  drove  them  from  their  guns,  and 
thus  prevented,  certainly,  the  effusion  of  much  blood, 
perhaps,  the  repulse  of  the  assailing  party.  In  this 
act  of  heroism,  he  received  a  severe  wound  in  the  wrist. 
It  is  but  justice  to  add,  that  on  this  occasion,  Captain 
Washington  was  ably  and  most  gallantly  supported  by 
Lieutenant  Monroe,  late  President  of  the  United  States, 
who  also  sustained  a  wound  in  the  hand. 

Shortly  after  this  adventure,  Washington  was  promo 
ted  to  a  majority  in  a  regiment  of  horse.  In  this  com 
mand  he  was  very  actively  engaged  in  the  northern  and 
middle  states,  with  various  success,  until  the  year  1780. 
Advanced  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel,  and  placed 
at  the  head  of  a  regiment  of  cavalry,  composed  of  the 
remains  of  three  that  had  been  reduced,  by  sickness 
and  battle,  he  was  then  attached  to  the  army  under 
General  Lincoln,  engaged  in  the  defence  of  South  Caro 
lina. 

Here  his  service  was  various,  and  his  course  eventful ; 
marked  by  a  few  brilliant  strokes  of  fortune,  but  check 
ered  with  two  severe  disasters.  The  first  of  these  re 
verses,  was  at  Monk's  Corner,  where  he  himself  com 
manded  ;  the  other,  at  Leneau's  Ferry,  where  he  was 
second  in  command  to  Col.  White. 

Inured  to  an  uncommon  extent  and  variety  of  hard 
services,  and  sufficiently  disciplined  in  the  school  of 


318  WILLIAM    WASHINGTON. 

adversity,  Colonel  Washington,  although  a  young  man,, 
was  now  a  veteran  in  military  experience.  Added  to 
this,  he  was  somewhnt  accustomed  to  a  warm  climate, 
and  had  acquired  from  actual  observation,  considerable 
knowledge  of  that  tract  of  country,  which  was  to  con 
stitute  in  future,  the  theatre  of  war. 

Such  was  this  officer,  when  at  the  head  of  a  regiment 
of  cavalry,  he  was  attached  to  the  army  of  Oeneral 
Greene. 

One  of  his  partisan  exploits,  however,  the  result  of  a 
well  conceived  stratagem,  must  be  succinctly  narrated. 

Having  learnt  during  a  scouting  excursion,  that  a  large 
body  of  loyalists  commanded  by  Col.  Rudgley,  was  pos 
ted  at  Rudgley's  mill,  twelve  miles  from  Camden,  he 
determined  on  attacking  them. 

Approaching  the  enemy,  he  found  them  so  secured  in 
a  large  log  barn,  surrounded  by  abattis,  as  to  be  perfectly 
safe  from  the  operations  of  cavalry. 

Forbidden  thus  to  attempt  his  object  by  direct  attack, 
his  usual  and  favourite  mode  of  warfare,  he  determined 
for  once  to  have  recourse  to  policy. 

Shaping,  therefore,  a  pine  log  in  imitation  of  a  field- 
piece,  mounting  it  on  the  wheels,  and  staining  it  with 
mud  to  make  it  look  like  iron,  he  brought  it  up  in  milita 
ry  style,  and  effected  to  make  arrangements  to  batter 
down  the  barn. 

To  give  the  stratagem  solemnity  and  effect,  he  des 
patched  a  flag,  warning  the  garrison  of  the  impending 
destruction,  and  to  prevent  bloodshed,  summoned  them 
to  submission. 

Not  prepared  to  resist  artillery,  Colonel  Rudgley 
obeyed  the  summons:  and  with  a  garrison  of  one  hun 
dred  and  three  rank  and  file,  surrendered  at  disrretion. 

In  the  spring  of  1782,  Colonel  Washington  married 
Miss  Eliot,  of  Charleston,  and  established,  himself  at 
Sandy  Hill,  her  ancestral  seat. 

After  the  conclusion  of  peace,  he  took  no  other  con 
cern  in  public  affairs,  than  to  appear  occasionally  in  the 
legislature  of  South  Carolina. 

When  General  Washington  accepted  the  command 
in  chief  of  the  armies  of  the  United  States,  under  the 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

presidency  of  \fr.  Adams,  he  selected  as  one  of  his 
staff,  his  kinsman  Colonel  William  Washington,  with 
the  rank  of  brigadier-general.  Had  no  other  proof 
been  wanting,  this  alone  was  sufficient  to  decide  his  mil 
itary  worth. 

In  private  life  he  was  a  man  of  unsullied  honour,  uni 
ted  to  an  amiable  temper,  lively  manners,  a  hospitable 
disposition,  and  a  truly  benevolent  heart."* 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  ESQ. 

Commander  in  Chief  of  the  American  Army. 

GEORGE    WASHINGTON,   commander  in  chief  of  the 
American  army  during  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  and 
first  president  of  the  United   States,  was  the  third   son 
of  Mr.  Augustine  Washington,  and   was  born  at  Bridg 
es  Creek  in  the  county  of  Westmoreland,  Virginia,  Feb 
ruary  22d,  1732.     His  great  grandfather  had  emigrated 
to  that  place  from  the  north  of  England  about  the  year 
1657.     At  the  age  of  ten  years   he  lost  his  father,  and 
the  patrimonial  estate  descended   to  his  elder  brother, 
Mr.  Lawrence  Washington,  who  in  the  year  1740  had 
been  engaged  in  the  expedition  against  Carthagena. — 
In  honour  of  the  British  admiral,  who  commanded  the 
fleet,  employed  in  that  enterprise,  the  estate  was  called 
Mount  Vernon.     At  the  age  of  fifteen,  agreeably  to  the 
wishes  of  his  brother  as  well  as  to  his  own  urgent  re 
quest  to  enter  into  the  British  navy,  the  place  of  a  mid 
shipman  in  a  vessel  of  war,  then  stationed  on  the  coast 
of  Virginia,  was  obtained  for  him.     Every  thing  was  in 
readiness  for  his  departure,  when  the  fears  of  a  timid 
and  affectionate  mother  prevailed  upon  him  to  abandon 
his  proposed  career  on  the  ocean,  and   were  the  means 
of  retaining  him  upon  the  land  to  be  the  future  vindica 
tor  of  his  country's  rights     All  the  advantages  of  edu 
cation   which  he  enjoyed,  were  derived  from  a  private 
tutor,  who  instructed  him  in  the  English  literature  and 
the  general  principles  of  science,  as  well  as  in  morality 
and  religion.     After  his  disappointment  with  regard  to 

*Life  of  Gen.  Greene 


320  GEORGE     WASHINGTON,, 

entering  the  navy,  lie  devoted  such  of  his  time,  to  the 
study  of  the  mathematics;  and  in  the  practice  of  his 
profession  as  a  surveyor,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  ac 
quiring  that  information  respecting  the  value  of  vacant 
lands,  which  afterward  greatly  contributed  to  the  in 
crease  of  his  private  fortune.  At  the  age  of  nineteen, 
when  the  militia  of  Virginia  were  to  be  trained  for  ac 
tual  service, he  was  appointed  an  adjutant  general  with 
the  rank  of  major.  It  was  for  a  very  short  time,  .that 
he  discharged  the  duties  of  this  office.  In  the  year 
1753,  the  plan  formed  by  France  for  connecting  Canada 
with  Louisiana  by  a  line  of  posts,  and  thus  of  enclosing 
the  British  colonies,  and  of  establishing  her  influence 
over  the  numerous  tribes  of  Indians  on  the  frontiers,  be 
gan  to  be  developed.  In  the  prosecution  of  this  design 
possession  had  been  taken  of  a  tract  of  land,  then  be 
lieved  to  be  within  the  province  of  Virginia.  Mr.  Din- 
widdie,  the  lieutenant  governor,  being  determined  to  re 
monstrate  against  the  supposed  encroachment,  and  vio 
lation  of  the  treaties  between  the  two  countries,  des 
patched  Major  Washington  through  the  wilderness  to 
the  Ohio,  to  deliver  a  letter  to  the  commanding  officer  of 
the  French,  and  also  to  explore  the  country.  This  trust 
of  danger  and  fatigue  he  executed  with  great  ability. — 
He  left  Williamsburg  October  31,  1753,  the  very  day, 
on  which  he  received  his  commission,  and  at  the  fron 
tier  settlement  of  the  English  engaged  guides  to  con 
duct  him  over  the  Alleghany  mountains.  After  passing 
them  he  pursued  his  route  to  the.  Monongahela  and  Al 
leghany  Rivers  as  a  position,  which  ought  to  be  imme 
diately  possessed  and  fortified.  At  this  place  the 
French  very  soon  erected  Fort  du  Quesne,  which  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  English  in  1758,  and  was  called 
by  them  Fort  Pitt.  Pursuing  his  way  up  the  Alleghany 
to  French  Creel:,  he  found  at  a  Fort  upon  this  stream 
the  commanding  officer,  to  whom  he  delivered  the  letter 
from  Mr.  Dinwiddie.  On  his  return  he  encountered 
great  difficulties  and  dangers.  As  the  snow  was  deep 
and  the  horses  weak  from  fatigue,  he  left  his  attendants- 
at  the  mouth  of  French  Creek,  and  set  out  on  foot,  with 
bis  papers  and  provisions  in  his  pack,  accompanied 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

only  by  his  pilot,  Mr.  Gist.  At  a  place  upon  the  Alle- 
ghany,  called  Murderingtown,  they  fell  in  with  a  hostile 
Indian,  who  was  one  of  a  party  then  lying  in  wait,  and 
who  fired  upon  them,  not  ten  steps  distant.  They  took 
him  into  custody  and  kept  him  until  nine  o'clock,  and 
then  let  him  go.  To  avoid  the  pursuit,  which  they  pre 
sumed  would  be  commenced  in  the  morning,  they  trav 
elled  all  night.  On  reaching  the  Monongahela,  they  had 
a  hard  day's  work  to  make  a  raft  with  a  hatchet.  In 
attempting  to  cross  the  river  to  reach  a  trader's  house, 
they  were  enclosed  by  masses  of  ice.  In  order  to  stop 
the  raft  Major  Washington  put  down  his  setting  pole; 
but  the  ice  came  with  such  force  against  it,  as  to  jerk 
him  into  the  water.  He  saved  himself  by  seizing  one  of 
the  raft  logs.  With  difficulty  they  landed  on  an  island, 
where  they  passed  the  night.  The  cold  was  so  severe, 
that  the  pilot's  hands  and  feet  were  frozen.  The  next 
day  they  crossed  the  river  upon  the  i<fb.  Washington 
arrived  at  Williamsburg  January  16,  A?54.  His  Jour 
nal,  which  evinced  the  solidity  of  l*s  judgment  and  his 
fortitude,  was  published. 

As  the  French  seemed  disposed  to  remain  upon  the 
Ohio,  it  was  determined  to  raise  a  regiment  of  three 
hundred  men  to  maintain  the  claims  of  the  British 
crown.  The  command  was  given  to  Mr.  Fry,  and  Major 
Washington,  who  was  appointed  Lieutenant-colonel, 
marched  with  two  companies  early  in  April,  17M,  in 
advance  of  the  other  troops.  A  few  miles  west  of  the 
Great  Meadows  he  surprised  a  French  encampment 
in  a  dark,  rainy  night,  and  only  one  man  escaped.  Be 
fore  the  arrival  of  the  two  remaining  companies  Mr.  Fry 
died,  and  the  command  devolved  on  Col.  Washington. 
Being  joined  by  two  other  companies  of  regular  troops 
from  South  Carolina  and  New  York,  after  erecting  a 
small  stockade  at  the  Great  Meadows,  he  proceeded 
towards  Fort  du  Quesne,  which  had  been  built  but  n 
short  time,  with  the  intention  of  dislodging  the  French. 
He  had  marched  only  thirteen  miles  to  the  westermost 
foot  of  the  Laurel  Hill,  before  he  received  information 
of  the  approach  of  the  enemy  with  superior  numbers, 
and  was  induced  to  return  to  his  stockade.  HP. 

R2 


322  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

began  a  ditch  around  it,  and  called  it  Fort  Necessity ; 
but   the   next  day,  July  the  third,  he  was  attacked  by 
fifteen  hundred  men.     His  own  troops  were  only  about 
four  hundred  in  number.     The  action  commenced  at  ten 
in  the  morning,  and  lasted  until  dark.     A  part   of  the 
Americans   fought  within   the  fort,  and    a  part  in   the 
ditch  filled  with  mud  and  water.     Colonel   Washington 
was  himself  on  the  outside  of  the  fort  during  the  whole 
day.     The  enemy   fought  under  cover  of  the  trees  and 
high  grass.     In  the  course  of  the  night  articles  of  capit 
ulation  were  agreed  upon.     The  garrison  were  allowed 
to  retain  their  arms  and   baggage,  and  to  march  unmo 
lested  to  the  inhabited  parts  of  Virginia.     The  loss  of 
the  Americans  in  killed  and  wounded  was  supposed  to 
be  about  a  hundred,  and  that  of  the  enemy   about  twe 
hundred.     In  a  few  months  afterward  orders  were   re 
ceived  for  settling  the  rank  of  the  officers,  and  those, 
who  were  commissioned  by  the   king,  being  directed  to 
take   rank  of  the   provincial    officers,  Col.  Washington 
indignantly    resigned    his  commission.     He  now  retired 
to  Mount  Vernon.  that  estate  by  the  death  of  his  brother 
having  devolved  upon  him.     But  in  the  spring  of  1755, 
he  accepted   an  invitation  from  General  Braddock  to 
enter  his  family  as  a  volunteer  aid-de-camp,  in  his  expe 
dition  to  the  Ohio.     He  proceeded  with  him  to  Will's 
Creek,  afterward   called   Fort   Cumberland,  in  April. 
After  the  troops    had  marched  a  few   miles  from  this 
place, he  was  seized  with  a  raging  fever;  but  refusing  to 
remain  behind  he  was  conveyed   in  a  covered  wagon. — 
By  his   advice  twelve  hundred  men   were   detached,  in 
order,  by  a  rapid  movement,  to  reach  Fort  du  Quesne 
before  an  expected  reinforcement  should  be  received  at 
that  place.     These   disencumbered    troops   were   com 
manded  by  Braddock  himself, andtCoIonel  Washington, 
though  still  extremely  ill,  insisted  upon  proceeding  with 
them.     After  they  arrived  upon  the  Monongahela,  he  ad 
vised  the  general  to  employ  the  ranging  companies  of 
Virginia,  to  scour  the  woods  and  to  prevent  ambuscades ; 
but  his  advise  was  not   followed.     On  the  ninth  of  July, 
when  the  army  was  within  seven  miles  of  Fort  du  Ques 
ne,  the  enemy  commenced  a  sudden  and  furious  attack, 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  323 

being  concealed  by  the  wood  and  high  grass.  In  a  short 
time  Colonel  Washington  was  the  only  aid  that  was  un- 
wounded,  and  on  him  devolved  the  whole  duty  of  carry 
ing  the  orders  of  the  commander  in  chief.  He  was  cool 
and  fearless.  Though  he  had  two  horses  killed  under 
him,  and  four  balls  through  his  coat,  he  escaped  unhurt, 
while  every  other  officer  on  horseback  was  either  killed 
or  wounded.  Doctor  Craik,  the  physician,  who  attend 
ed  him  in  his  last  sickness,  was  present  in  this  battle, 
and  says,  "I  expected  every  moment  to  see  him  fall. — 
Nothing  but  the  superintending  care  of  Providence  could 
have  saved  hi -^  from  the  fate  of  ail  around  him."  After 
an  action  of  three  hours  the  troops  gave  way  in  all  di 
rections,  and  Col.  Washington  and  two  others  brought 
off  Braddock,  who  had  been  mortally  wounded.  He 
attempted  to  rally  the  retreating  troops:  but  as  he  says 
himself,  it  was  like  endeavouring  "to  stop  the  wild  bears 
of  the  mountains."  The  conduct  of  the  regular  troops 
was  most  cowardly.  The  enemy  were  few  in  numbers 
and  had  no  expectation  of  victory. 

In  a  sermon,  occasioned  by  this  expedition,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Davis,  of  Hanover  county,  thus  prophetically  ex 
pressed  himself;  "as  a  remarkable  instance  of  patriot 
ism,  I  may  point  out  to  the  public  that  heroic  youth. 
Colonel  VVashington,  whom  I  cannot  but  hope  Provi 
dence  has  hitherto  preserved  in  so  signal  a  manner  for 
some  important  service  to  his  country." — For  this  pur 
pose  he  was  indeed  preserved,  and  at  the  end  of  twenty 
years  he  began  to  render  his  country  more  important 
services,  than  the  miuister  of  Jesus  could  have  anticipa 
ted.  From  1755  to  1758  he  commanded  a  regiment, 
which  was  raised  for  the  protection  of  the  fronties,  and 
during  this  period  he  was  incessantly  occupied  in  efforts 
to  shield  the  exposed  settlements  from  the  incursions  of 
the  savages.  His  exertions  were  in  a  great  degree  in 
effectual,  in  consequence  of  the  errors  and  the  pride  of 
government,  and  of  the  impossibility  of  guarding,  with  a 
few  troops,  an  extended  territory  from  an  enemy,  whielr 
was  averse  to  open  warfare — He,  in  the  most  earnest 
manner,  recommended  offensive  measures  as  the  only 
method  of  giving  complete  protection  to  the  scattered 
settlements. 


"J24  ClEORGi;    WASHINGTON. 

In  the  year  1758,  to  his  great  joy,  it  was  determined 
to  undertake  another  expedition  against  Fort  du  Ques- 
ne,  and  he  engaged  in  it  with  zeal.  Early  in  July  the 
troops  were  assembled  at  Fort  Cumberland;  and  here, 
against  all  the  remonstrances  and  arguments  of  Colonel 
Washington,  General  Forbes  resolved  to  open  a  new 
road  to  the  Ohio,  instead  of  taking  the  old  route.  Such 
was  the  predicted  measure, occasioned  by  this  delay, that 
in  November  it  was  resolved  not  to  proceed  further  du 
ring  that  campaign.  But  intelligence  of  the  weakness 
of  the  garrison  induced  an  alteration  of  the  plan  of 
passing  the  winter  in  the  wilderness.  By  slow  marches 
the  army  was  enabled,  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  November, 
to  reach  Fort  du  Quesne,  of  which  peaceable  possession 
was  taken,  as  the  enemy  on  the  preceding  night,  after 
setting  it  on  fire,  had  abandoned  it,  and  proceeded  down 
the  Ohio.  The  works  in  this  place  were  repaired,  and 
its  name  was  changed  to  that  of  Fort  Pitt.  The  suc 
cess  of  the  expedition  was  to  be  attributed  to  the  British 
ileet,  which  intercepted  reinforcements,  destined  for 
Canada,  and  to  events  in  the  northern  colonies.  The 
great  object,  which  he  had  been  anxious  to  effect,  being 
now  accomplished,  and  his  health  being  enfeebled,  Col. 
Washington  resigned  his  commission  as  commander  in 
chief  of  all  the  troops  raised  in  Virginia. 

Soon  after  his  resignation  he  was  married  to  the  wid 
ow  of  Mr.  Custis,  a  young  lady,  to  whom  he  had  been 
for  some  time  strongly  attached,  and  who  to  a  large  for 
tune  and  a  fine  person  added  those  amiable  accomplish 
ments,  which  fill  with  silent  felicity  the  scenes  of  domes 
tic  life.  His  attention,  for  several  years,  was  principally 
directed  to  the  management  of  his  estate,  which  had 
now  become  considerable.  He  had  nine  thousand  acres 
under  his  own  management.  So  great  a  part  was  culti 
vated,  that  in  one  year  he  raised  seven  thousand  bushels 
of  wheat,  and  ten  thousand  of  Indian  corn.  His  slaves 
and  other  persons,  employed  by  him,  amounted  to  near 
a  thousand;  and  the  woollen  and  linen  cloth  necessary 
for  their  use  was  chiefly  manufactured  on  the  estate.— 
He  was  at  this  period  a  respectable  member  of  the  le 
gislature  of  Virginia,  in  which  he  took  a  decided  part  in 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

opposition  to  the  principle  of  taxation,  asserted  by  the 
BritishiParliament.  He  also  acted  as  a  judge  of  a  coun 
ty  court.  In  1774  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  first 
congress,  and  was  placed  on  all  those  committees,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  make  arrangements  for  defence.  In  the 
following  year,  after  the  battle  of  Lexington,  when  it 
was  determined  by  congress  to  resort,  to  arms,  Colonel 
Washington  was  unanimously  elected  commander  in 
chief  of  the  army  of  the  united  colonies.  All  were  sat 
isfied  as  to  his  qualifications,  and  the  delegates  from 
New-England  were  particularly  pleased  with  his  elec 
tion,  as  it  would  tend  to  unite  the  southern  colonies  cor 
dially  in  the  war.  He  accepted  the  appointment  with 
diffidence,  and  expressed  his  intention  of  receiving  no 
compensation  for  his  services,  and  only  a  mere  discharge 
of  his  expenses.  He  immediately  repaired  to  Cam 
bridge,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Boston,  where  he  arri 
ved  on  the  second  of  July.  He  formed  the  army  into 
three  divisions,  in  order  the  most  effectually  to  enclose 
the  enemy,  intrusting  the  division  at  Roxbury  to  Gen. 
Ward,  the  division  on  Prospect  and  Winter  Hills  to 
General  Lee,  and  commanding  himself  the  centre  at 
Cambridge.  Here  he  had  to  struggle  with  great  diffi 
culties,  with  the  want  of  ammunition,  clothing,  and  mag 
azines,  defect  of  arms  and  discipline,  and  the  evils  of 
short  enlistments;  but  instead  of  yielding  to  despon 
dence  he  bent  the  whole  force  of  his  mind  to  evercome 
them.  He  soon  made  the  alarming  discovery,  that 
there  was  only  sufficient  powder  on  hand  to  furnish  the 
army  with  nine  catridges  for  each  man.  With  the  great 
est  caution  to  keep  this  fact  a  secret,  the  utmost  exer 
tions  were  employed  to  procure  a  supply.  A  vessel, 
which  was  despatched  to  Africa,  obtained  in  exchange 
for  New-England  rum  all  the  gunpowder  in  the  British 
factories;  and  in  the  beginning  of  winter  captain  Manly 
captured  an  ordnance  brig,  which  furnished  the  Ameri 
can  army  with  the  precise  articles,  of  which  it  was  in 
the  greatest  want.  In  September,  General  Washington 
despatched  Arnold  on-  an  expedition  against  Quebec. 
In  February,  1776,  he  proposed  to  a  council  of  his  offi 
cers  to  cross  the  ice  and  attack  the  enemy  in  Boston, 


326  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

but  they  unanimously  disapproved  of  the  daring  meas 
ure.  It  was  however  soon  resolved  to  take  possession 
of  the  heights  of  Dorchester.  This  was  done  without 
discovery  on  the  night  of  the  fourth  of  March,  and  on 
the  seventeenth  the  enemy  found  it  necessary  to  evacu 
ate  the  town.  The  recovery  of  Boston  induced  con^ 
gressto  pass  a  vote  of  thanks  to  Gen.  Washington  and 
his.  brave  army. 

In  the  belief,  that  the  efforts  of  the  British  would  be 
directed  towards  the  Hudson,  he  hastened  the  army  to 
New-York,  where  he  himself  arrived  on  the  fourteenth 
of  April.  He  made  every  exertion  to  fortify  the  city, 
and  attention  was  paid  to  the  forts  in  the  Highlands. — 
While  he  met  the  most  embarrassing  difficulties,  a  plan 
was  formed  to  assist  the  enemy  in  seizing  his  person, 
and  some  of  his  own  guards  engaged  in  the  conspiracy; 
but  it  was  discovered,  and  some,  who  were  concerned  in 
it,  were  executed. 

In  the  beginning  of  July,  Gen.  Howe  landed  his  troops 
at  Staten  Island.  His  brother  Lord  Flowe,  who  com 
manded  the  fleet,  soon  arrived  ;  and  as  both  were  com 
missioners  for  restoring  peace  to  the  colonies,  the  latter 
addressed  a  letter  upon  the  subject  to  "  George  Wash 
ington,  Esq."  but  the  general  refused  to  receive  it,  as  it 
did  not  acknowledge  the  public  character,  with  which 
he  was  invested  by  congress,  in  which  character  only  he 
could  have  any  intercourse  with  his  lordship.  Another 
letter  was  sent  to  "George  Washington,  &c.  &c.  &c.'' 
This  for  the  same  reason  was  rejected. 

After  the  disasterous  battle  of  Brooklyn,  on  the  27th 
ef  August,  in  which  Stirling  and  Sullivan  were  taken 
prisoners,  and  of  which  he  was  only  a  spectator,  he  with 
drew  the  troops  from  Long-Island,  and  in  a  few  days  he 
resolved  to  withdraw  from  New-York.  At  Kipp's  Bay, 
about  three  miles  from  the  city,  some  works  had  been 
thrown  up  to  oppose  the  enemy ;  but,  on  their  approach, 
the  American  troops  fled  with  precipitation.  Washing 
ton  rode  towards  the  lines,  and  made  every  exertion  to 
prevent  the  disgraceful  flight.  He  drew  his  sword  and 
threatened  to  run  the  cowards  through ;  he  cocked  and 
snapped  his  pistols;  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  Such  was  the 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  327 

state  of  his  mind,  at  this  moment,  that  he  turned  his 
horse  towards  the  advancing  enemy,  apparently  with 
the  intention  of  rushing  upon  death.  His  aids  now  sei 
zed  the  bridle  of  his  horse  and  rescued  him  from  de 
struction.  New-York  was  on  the  same  day,  September 
15th,  evacuated.  In  October  he  retreated  to  the  White 
Plains,  where,  on  the  28th,  a  considerable  action  took 
place,  in  which  the  Americans  were  overpowered.  Af 
ter  the  loss  of  Forts  Washington  and  Lee,  he  passed  into 
New-Jersey,  in  November,  and  was  pursued  by  a  trium 
phant  and  numerous  enemy.  His  army  did  not  amount 
to  three  thousand,  and  it  was  daily  diminishing ;  his  men, 
as  the  winter  commenced,  were  barefooted  and  almost 
naked,  destitute  of  tents  and  of  utensils,  with  which  to 
dress  their  scanty  provisions;  and  every  circumstance 
tended  to  fill  the  mind  with  despondence.  But  General 
Washington  was  undismayed  and  firm.  He  showed 
himself  to  his  enfeebled  army  with  a  serene  and  unem 
barrassed  countenance,  and  they  were  inspired  with  the 
resolution  of  their  commander.  On  the  8th  of  Decem 
ber  he  was  obliged  to  cross  the  Delaware;  but  he  had 
the  precaution  to  secure  the  boats  for  seventy  miles  upon 
the  river.  While  the  British  were  waiting  for  the  ice  to 
afford  them  a  passage,  as  his  own  army  had  been  rein 
forced  by  several  thousand  men,  he  formed  the  resolu 
tion  of  carrying  the  cantonments  of  the  enemy  by  sur 
prise.  On  the  night  of  the  25th  of  December  he  crossed 
the  river,  nine  miles  above  Trenton,  in  a  storm  of  snow, 
mingled  with  hail  and  rain,  with  about  two  thousand  and 
four  hundred  men.  Two  other  detachments  were  una 
ble  to  effect  a  passage.  In  the  morning,  precisely  at 
eight  o'clock,  he  surprised  Trenton,  and  took  a  thousand 
Hessian  prisoners,  a  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  six 
field  pieces.  Twenty  of  the  enemy  were  killed.  Of  the 
Americans  two  privates  were  killed,  and  two  frozen  to 
death;  and  one  officer  and  three  or  four  privates  were 
wounded.  On  the  same  day  he  recrossed  the  Delaware 
with  the  fruits  of  his  enterprise;  but  in  two  or  three  days 
passed  again  into  New-Jersey,  and  concentrated  his 
forces,  amounting  to  five  thousand,  at  Trenton.  On  the 
approach  of  a  superior  enemy,  under  Cornwallis,  Janu- 


328  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

ary  2,  1777,  lie  drew  up  his  men  behind  Assumpinck 
Creek.  He  expected  an  attack  in  the  morning,  which 
would  probably  result  in  a  ruinous  defeat.  At  this  mo 
ment,  when  it  was  hazardous,  if  not  impracticable  to  re 
turn  into  Pennsylvania,  he  formed  the  resolution  of  get 
ting  into  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  and  thus  stop  them  in 
their  progress  towards  Philadelphia.  In  the  night  he 
silently  decamped,  taking  a  circuitous  route  through  Al 
len's  Town  to  Princeton. — A  sudden  change  of  the 
weather  to  severe  cold  rendered  the  roads  favourable 
for  his  march.  About  sunrise  his  van  met  a  British  de 
tachment,  on  its  way  to  join  Cornwallis,  and  was  de 
feated  by  it;  but  as  he  came  up.  he  exposed  himself  to 
every  danger,  and  gained  a  victory.  With  three  hun 
dred  prisoners  he  then  entered  Princeton. 

During  this  march  many  of  his  soldiers  were  without 
shoes,  and  their  feet  left  the  marks  of  blood  upon  the  fro 
zen  ground.  This  hardship,  and  their  want  of  repose, 
induced  him  to  lead  his  army  to  a  place  of  security  on 
the  road  to  Morristovvn.  Cornwallis,  in  the  morning, 
broke  up  his  camp,  and  alarmed  for  his  stores  at  Bruns 
wick  urged  the  pursuit.  Thus  the  military  genious  of 
the  American  commander,  under  the  blessing  of  divine 
Providence,  rescued  Philadelphia  from  the  threatened 
danger,  obliged  the  enemy,  which  had  overspread  New- 
Jersey,  to  return  to  the  neighborhood  of  New-York,  and 
revived  the  desponding  spirit  of  his  country.  Having 
accomplished  these  objects,  he  retired  to  Morristown, 
where  lie  caused  his  whole  army  to  be  inoculated  for 
the  small-pox,  and  thus  was  freed  from  the  apprehension 
of  a  calamity,  which  might  impede  his  operations  du 
ring  the  next  campaign. 

On  the  last  of  May  he  removed  his  army  to  Middle- 
brook,  about  ten  miles  from  Brunswick,  where  he  forti 
fied  himself  very  strongly.  An  ineffectual  attempt  was 
made  by  Sir  William  Howe  to  draw  him  from  his  posi 
tion,  by  marching  towards  Philadelphia;  but  after 
Howe's  return  to  New-York,  he  moved  towards  tho 
Hudson,  in  order  to  defend  the  passes  in  the  mountains, 
in  the  expectation  that  a  junction  with  Burgoyne,  who 
was  then  upon  the  lakes,  would  be  attempted.  After  the 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

British  general  sailed  from  New- York,  and  entered  the 
Chesapeake,  in  August,  Gen.  Washington  marched  im 
mediately  for  the  defence  of  Philadelphia.  On  the  llth 
of  September,  he  was  defeated  at  Brandy  wine,  with  the 
loss  of  nine  hundred  in  killed  and  wounded.  A  few  days 
afterward,  as  he  was  pursued,  he  turned  upon  the  enemy, 
determined  upon  another  engagement;  but  a  heavy  rain 
so  damaged  the  arms  and  ammunition,  that  he  was  un 
der  the  absolute  necessity  of  again  retreating.  Phila 
delphia  was  entered  by  Cornwallis  on  the  twenty-sixth 
of  September.  On  the  4th  of  October,  the  American 
commander  made  a  well-planned  attack  upon  the  Brit 
ish  camp  at  Germantovvn ;  but  in  consequence  of  the 
darkness  of  the  morning  and  the  imperfect  discipline  of 
his  troops,  it  terminated  in  the  loss  of  twelve  hundred 
men,  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners.  In  December, 
he  went  into  winter  quarters  at  Valley  Forge,  on  the 
west  side  of  the  Schuylkill,  between  twenty  and  thirty 
miles  from  Philadelphia.  Here  his  army  was  in  the 
greatest  distress  for  want  of  provisions,  and  he  was  re 
duced  to  the  necessity  of  sending  out  parties  to  seize 
what  they  could  find.  About  the  same  time  a  combi 
nation,  in  which  some  members  of  Congress  were  enga 
ged,  was  formed  to  remove  the  commander  in  chief,  and 
to  appoint  in  his  place  Gates,  whose  successes  of  late 
had  given  him  a  high  reputation.  But  the  name  of 
Washington  was  too  dear  to  the  great  body  of  Ameri 
cans,  to  admit  of  such  a  change.  Notwithstanding  the 
discordant  materials,  of  which  his  army  was  composed, 
there  was  something  in  his  character,  which  enabled  him 
to  attach  both  his  officers  and  soldiers  so  strongly  to  him. 
that  no  distress  could  weaken  their  affection,  nor  impair 
the  veneration,  in  which  he  was  generally  held.  With 
out  this  attachment  to  him,  the  army  must  have  been 
dissolved.  General  Conway,  who  was  concerned  in  this 
faction,  being  \vounded  in  a  duel  with  Gen.  Cadvvallader, 
and  thinking  his  wound  mortal,  wrote  to  Gen.  Washing 
ton,  '  You  are,  in  my  eyes,  the  great  und  good  man.'  On 
the  1st  of  February,  1778,  there  were  about  four  thou 
sand  men  in  camp,  unfit  for  duty  for  want  of  clothes.  Of 
these  scarcely  a  man  had  a  pair  of  shoes.  The  hospi- 

S2 


330  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

tals  also  were  filled  with  the  sick.  At  this  time,  the 
enemy,  if  they  had  marched  out  of  their  winter  quarters, 
would  easily  have  dispersed  the  American  army.  The 
apprehension  of  the  approach  of  a  French  fleet  inducing 
the  British  to  concentrate  their  forces,  when  they  evacu 
ated  Philadelphia  on  the  17th  of  June,  and  marched  to 
wards  New  York,  General  Washington  followed  them. 
Contrary  to  the  advice  of  a  council,  he  engaged  in  the 
battle  of  Monmouth  on  the  28th;  the  result  of  which 
made  an  impression  favourable  to  the  cause  of  America. 
He  slept  in  his  cloak  on  the  field  of  battle,  intending  to 
renew  the  attack  next  morning;  but  at  midnight  the  Brit 
ish  marched  off  in  such  silence,  as  not  to  be  discovered. 
Their  loss  in  killed,  was  about  three  hundred ;  and  that 
of  the  Americans  sixty-nine.  As  the  campaign  now 
closed  in  the  middle  states,  the  American  army  wont 
into  winter  quarters,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  High 
lands  upon  the  Hudson.  Thus,  after  the  vicissitudes  of 
two  years/both  armies  were  brought  back  to  the  point, 
from  which  they  set  out.  During  the  year  1779,  Gen. 
Washington  remained  in  the  neighbourhood  of  New- 
York.  In  January  1780,  in  a  winter  memorable  for  its 
severity,  his  utmost  exertions  were  necessary  to  save  the 
army  from  dissolution.  The  soldiers,  in  general,  submit 
ted  with  heroic  patience  to  the  wants  of  provisions  and 
clothes.  At  one  time,  they  ate  every  kind  of  horse-food 
but  hay.  Their  sufferings  at  length  were  so  great,  that  in 
March  two  of  the  Connecticut  regiments  mutined:  but 
the  mutiny  was  suppressed,  and  the  ringleaders  secured. 
In  September,  the  treachery  of  Arnold  was  detected.  In 
the  winter  of  1781,  such  were  again  the  privations  of 
the  army,  that  a  part  of  the  Pennsylvania  line  revolted, 
and  marched  home.  Such,  however,  was  still  their  pat 
riotism,  that  they  delivered  up  some  British  emissaries 
to  General  Wayne,  who  hanged  them  as  spies.  Com 
mitting  the  defence  of  the  posts  on  the  Hudson  to  Gen. 
Heath,  General  Washington  in  August  marched  with 
Count  Rochambeau  for  the  Chesapeake,  to  co-operate 
with  the  French  fleet  there.  The  siege  of  Yorktmvn 
commenced  on  the  28th  of  September,  and  on  the  19th 
of  October,  he  reduced  Cornwailis  to  the  necessity  of 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  331 

surrendering,  with  upwards  of  seven  thousand  men,  to 
the  combined  armies  of  America  and  France.  The  day 
after  the  capitulation,  he  ordered  that  those  who  were 
under  arrest  should  be  pardoned,  and  that  divine  service,, 
in  acknowledgment  of  the  interposition  of  Providence, 
should  be  performed  in  all  the  brigades  and  divisions. 
This  event  filled  America  with  joy,  and  was  the  means, 
of  terminating  the  war. 

Few  events  of  importance  took  place  in  1782.     In 
March,  1783,  he  exhibited  his  characteristic   firmness 
and  decision,  in  opposing  an  attempt  to  produce  a  muti 
ny,  by  anonymous  letters.     His  address  to  his  officers, 
on  the  occasion,  displays  in  a  remarkable  degree  his 
prudence,  and  the  correctness  of  his  judgment.     When 
he  began  to  read  it,  he  found  himself  in  some  degree  em 
barrassed,  by  the  imperfection  of  his  sight.    Taking  out 
his  spectacles,  he  said, 'These  eyes,  my  friends,  have 
grown  dim,  and  these  locks  white  in  the  service  of  my 
country;  yet  I  have  never  doubted  her  justice.    He  only 
could  have    repressed  the  spirit,  which  was  breaking 
forth.     On  the    19th  of  April,  a  cessation  of  hostilities 
was  proclaimed  in  the  American  camp.     In  June  he  ad 
dressed  a  letter  to  the  governors  of  the  several  states, 
congratulating  them  on  the  result  of  the  contest  in  the 
establishment  of  independence,  and  recommending  an 
indissoluble  union  of  the  states,  under  one  federal  head, 
a  sacred  regard  to  public  justice,  the   adoption  of  a 
proper  peace  establishment,  and  the  prevalence  of  a 
friendly  disposition    among  the  people  of  the   several 
states.     It  was  with  keen  distress,  as  well  as  with  pride 
and  admiration,  that  he  saw  his  brave  and  veteran  sol 
diers,  who  had  suffered  so  much,  and  who  had  borne  the 
heat  and  burden  of  the  war,  returning  peaceably  to  their 
homes,  without  a  settlement  of  their  accounts,  or  a  far 
thing  of  money  in  their  pockets.     On  the  25th  of  No 
vember,  New-York  was  evacuated,  and  he  entered  it, 
accompanied  by  Governor  Clinton,  and  many  respecta 
ble  citizens.     On  the  4th  of  December,  he  took  his  fare 
well  of  his  brave  comrades  in  arms.     At  noon  the  prin 
cipal  officers  of  the  army  assembled  at  Frances's  tav- 
ernj,and  their  beloved  commander  soon  entered  the  room. 


332  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

His  emotions  were  too  strong  to  be  concealed.     Filling 
a  glass  with  wine,  he  turned  to  them  and  said, 4  With  a 
heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude,  I  now  take  leave  of  you  ; 
I  most  devoutly  wish,  that  your  latter  days  may  be  as 
prosperous  and  happy,  as  your  former  ones   have  been 
glorious  and  honorable.'     Having   drunk,  he  added, fc  I 
cannot  come  to  each  of  you  to  take  my  leave,  but  shall 
be  obliged  to  you,  if  each  of  you  will  come  and  take  me 
by  the  hand.'     General  Knox,  being  nearest,  turned  to 
him.    Incapable  of  utterance,  General  Washington  gras 
ped  his  hand,  and  embraced   him.     In  the  same  affec 
tionate  Hmnner.  he  took   his  leave  of  each  succeeding 
officer.     In  every  eye  was  the  tear  of  dignified  sensibili 
ty,  and  not  a  word  was  articulated,  to  interrupt  the  si 
lence  and  the  tenderness  of  the  scene.     Ye  men,  who 
delight  in  blood,  slaves  of  ambition!  When  your  work 
of  carnage  was  finished,  could  ye  thus  part  with  your 
companions  in  crime?  Leaving  the  room,  Gen.  Wash 
ington  passed  through  the  corps  of  light-infantry,  and 
walked  to  Whitehall,  where  a  barge  waited  to  carry 
him  to  Powles'  Hook.     The  whole  company  followed  in 
mute   procession,  with  dejected  countenances.     When 
he  entered  the  barge,  he  turned  to  them,  and  waiving  his 
hat,  bade  them  a  silent  adieu ;  receiving  from  them  the 
same  last,  affectionate  compliment.     On  the  23d  of  De 
cember,  he  resigned  his  commission  to  congress,  then  as 
sembled  at  Annapolis.     He  delivered  a  short  address 
on  the  occasion,  in  which  he  said,  ;I  consider  it  an  in 
dispensable  duty,  to  close  this  last  solemn  act  of  my  of 
ficial  life,  by  commending  the  interests  of  our  dearest 
country  to  the  protection  of  Almighty  God,  and  those 
who  have  superintendence  of  them,  to  his  holy  keeping." 
He  then   retired  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  enjoy  again  the 
pleasure  of  domestic  life.     Here  the  expressions  of  the 
gratitude  of  his  countrymen,  in  affectionate  addresses, 
poured  in  upon  him,  and  he  received  every  testimony  of 
respect  and  veneration. 

In  his  retirement,  however,  he  could  not  overlook  the 
public  interests.  He  was  desirous  of  opening,  by  water 
carriage,  a  communication  between  the  Atlantic  and  the 
western  portions  of  our  country,  in  order  to  prevent  the 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON.  323 

diversion  of  trade  down  the  Mississippi, and  to  Canada; 
from  which  he  predicted  consequences  injurious  to  the 
union.     Through  his  influence,  two  companies  were  for 
med  for  promoting  inland  navigation.     The  legislature 
of  Virginia  presented  him  with  three  hundred  shares  in 
them,  which  he  appropriated  to  public  uses.    In  the  year 
1786,  he  was  convinced,  with  other  statesmen,  of  the 
necessity  of  substituting  a  more  vigorous  general  govern 
ment  in  the  place  of  the  impotent  articles  of  confedera 
tion.     Still  he  was  aware  of  the  danger  of  running  from 
one  extreme  to  another.     He  exclaims  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Jay, '  What  astonishing  changes  a  few  years  are  capa 
ble  of  producing!  I  am  told,  that  even  respectable  char 
acters  speak  of  a  mocarchial  form  of  government  with 
out  horror.    From  thinking  proceeds  speaking ;  thence  to 
acting  is  often  but  a  single  step.     But  how  irrevocable, 
and   tremendous!    What  a  triumph  for  our  enemies  to 
verify  their  predictions!  What  a  triumph  for  the  advo 
cates  of  despotism,  to  find  that  we  are  incapable  of  gov 
erning  ourselves,  and  that  systems,  founded  on  the  basis 
of  equal  liberty, are  merely  ideal  and  fallacious!'  In  the 
following  year,  he  was  persuaded  to  take  a  seat  in  the 
convention,  which  formed  the  present  constitution  of  the 
United  States;  arid  he  presided  in  that  body.     In  1789, 
he  was  unanimously  elected  the  first  president  of  the 
United  States.     It  was  with  great  reluctance,  that  he 
accepted  this  office.     His  feelings,  as  he  said  himself, 
were  like  those  of  a  culprit,  going  to  the  place  of  execu 
tion.     But  the  voice  of  a  whole  continent,  the  pressing 
recommendation  of  his  particular  friends,  and  the  appre 
hension,  that  he  should  otherwise  be  considered  as  un 
willing  to  hazard  his  reputation  in  executing  a  system, 
which  he  had  assisted  in  forming,  determined  him  to  ac 
cept  the  appointment.     In  April  he  left  Mount  Vernon 
to  proceed  to  New-York,  and  to  enter  on  the  duties  of 
his  high  office.     He  every  where  received  testimonies 
of  respect  and  love.     At  Trenton,  the  gentler  sex  re 
warded  him  for  his  successful  enterprise,  and  the  pro 
tection  which  he  afforded  them  twelve  years  before.  On 
the  bridge  over  the  creek,  which  passes  through  the 
town,  was  erected  a  triumphal  arch,  ornamented  with 


334  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

laurels  and  flowers,  and  supported  by  thirteen  pillars, 
each  encircled  with  wreaths  of  evergreen.  On  the  front 
of  the  arch  was  inscribed  in  large  gilt  letters, 

THE  DEFENDER  OF  THE  MOTHERS  WILL 

3E  THE  PROTECTOR  OF  THE 

DAUGHTERS. 

At  this  place  he  was  met  by  a  party  of  matrons,  leading 
their  daughters,  who  were  dressed  in  white,  and  who 
with  baskets  of  flowers  in  their  hands,  sung  with  exquis 
ite  sweetness  the  following  ode,  written  for  the  occasion; 

Welcome,  mighty  chief,  once  more 
Welcome  to  this  grateful  shore; 
Now  no  mercenary  foe 
Aims  again  the  fatal  blow, 
Aims  at  THEE  the  fatal  blow. 

Virgins  fair  and  matrons  grave, 
Those  thy  conquering  arms  did  save, 
Build  for  thee  triumphal  bowers; 
Strew,  ye  fair,  his  way  with  flowers, 
Strew  yours  heroe's  way  with  flowers. 

At  the  last  line  the  flowers  were  strewed  before  him. 
after  receiving  such  proofs  of  affectionate  attachment, 
he  arrived  at  New  York,  and  was  inaugurated  first 
President  of  the  United  States  on  the  thirteenth  of 
April.  In  making  the  necessary  arrangements  of  his 
houshold  he  publicly  announced,  that  neither  visits  of 
business  nor  of  ceremony  would  be  expected  on  Sun 
day,  as  he  wished  to  reserve  that  day  sacredly' to  him 
self. 

At  the  close  of  his  first  term  of  four  years,  he  pre 
pared  a  valedictory  address  to  the  American  people, 
anxious  to  return  again  to  the  scenes  of  domestic  life; 
but  the  earnest  entreaties  of  his  friends,  and  the  peculiar 
situation  of  his  country,  induced  him  to  be  a  candidate 
for  a  second  election.  During  his  administration  of 
eight  years,  the  labour  of  establishing  the  different  de 
partments  of  a  new  government  was  accomplished  ;  and 
he  exhibited  the  greatest  firmness,  wisdom,  and  inde 
pendence.  He  was  an  American,  and  he  chose  not  to 
involve  his  country  in  the  contests  of  Europe.  He  ac- 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  333 

Gordingly,  with  the  unanimous  advice  of  his  cabinet, 
consisting  of  Messrs.  Jefferson,  Hamilton,  Knox,  and 
Randolph,  issued  a  proclamation  of  neutrality,  April 
22,  1793,  a  few  days  after  he  heard  of  the  commence 
ment  of  the  war  between  England  and  France.  This 
measure  contributed,  in  a  great  degree,  to  the  prosperity 
of  America.  Its  adoption  was  the  more  honourable  to 
the  president,  as  the  general  sympathy  was  in  favour 
of  the  sister  republic,  against  whom  it  was  said  Great 
Britain  had  commenced  the  war  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
imposing  upon  her  a  monarchial  form  of  government. 
He  preferred  the  peace  and  welfare  of  his  country  to 
the  breath  of  popular  applause.  Another  act,  in  which 
he  proved  himself  to  be  less  regardful  of  the  public  par 
tialities  and  prejudices,  than  of  what  he  conceived  to 
be  the  public  good,  was  the  ratification  of  the  British 
treaty.  The  English  government  had  neglected  to  sur 
render  the  western  posts,  and  by  commercial  restrictions, 
and  in  other  ways,  had  evinced  a  hostile  spirit  towards 
this  country.  To  avert  the  calamity  of  another  war, 
Mr.  Jay  was  nominated  as  envoy  extraordinary  in 
April,  1794.  In  June,  1795,  the  treaty,  which  Mr.  Jay 
had  made,  was  submitted  to  the  senate,  and  was  ratified 
by  that  body  on  the  condition,  that  on-e  article  should  be 
altered.  While  the  president  was  deliberating  upon  it, 
an  incorrect  copy  of  the  instrument  was  made  public  by 
a  senator,  and  the  whole  country  was  thrown  into  a 
state  of  extreme  irritation.  At  this  period,  he,  in  Au 
gust,  conditionally  ratified  it,  and  in  February,  1706, 
when  it  was  returned  from  his  Britannic  Majesty  with 
the  proposed  alteration,  he  declared  it  to  be  the  law  of 
the  land.  After  this  transaction  the  house  of  represen 
tatives  requested  him  to  lay  before  them  the  papers 
relating  to  the  treaty,  but  he,  with  great  independence 
refused  to  comply  with  their  request,  as  they  could  have 
no  claim  to  an  inspection  of  them  except  upon  a  vote  of 
impeachment,  and  as  a  compliance  would  establish  a 
dangerous  precedent.  He  had  before  this  shown  a  dis 
position  to  maintain  the  authority,  vested  in  his  office, 
by  declining  to  affix  ins  signature  to  a  bill  which  had 
passed  both  houses. 


330  GEORGE     WASHlN?GTOrs. 

As  the  period  for  a  new  election  of  a  President  of  the 
United  States  approached,  and  after  plain  indications 
that  the  public  voice  would  be  in  his  favour,  and  when 
he  probably  would  be  chosen  for  the  third  time  unani 
mously,  he  determined  irrevocably  to  withdraw  to  the 
shades  of  private  life.  He  published,  in  September, 
1796,  his  farewell  address  to  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  which  ought  to  be  engraven  upon  the  hearts  of 
his  countrymen.  In  the  most  earnest  and  affectionate 
manner  he  called  upon  them  to  cherish  an  immoveable 
attachment  to  the  national  union,  to  watch  for  its  pres 
ervation  with  jealous  anxiety,  to  discountenance  even 
the  suggestion,  that  it  could  in  any  event  be  abandoned, 
and  indignantly  to  frown  upon  the  first  dawning  of  every 
attempt  to  alienate  any  portion  of  our  country  from  the 
rest.  Overgrown  military  establishments  he  represent 
ed  as  particularly  hostile  to  republican  liberty.  While 
he  recommended  the  most  implicit  obedience  to  the  acts 
of  the  established  government,  and  reprobated  all  ob 
structions  to  the  execution  of  the  laws,  all  combinations 
and  associations,  under  whatever  plausible  character, 
with  the  real  design  to  direct,  control,  counteract,  or  awe 
the  regular  deliberation  and  action  of  the  constituted 
authorities;  he  wished  also  to 'guard  against  the  spirit 
of  innovation  upon  the  principles  of  the  constitution. 
Aware  that  the  energy  of  the  system  might  be  enfee 
bled  by  alterations,  he  thought  that  no  change  should  be 
made  without  an  evident  necessity,  and  that  in  so  ex 
tensive  a  country  as  much  vigour  as  is  consistent  with 
liberty  is  indispensable.  On  the  other  hand,  he  pointed 
out  the  danger  of  a  real  despotism  by  breaking  down 
the  partitions  between  the  several  departments  of  gov 
ernment,  by  destroying  the  reciprocal  checks,  and  con 
solidating  the  different  powers.  Against  the  spirit  of 
party,  so  particularly  baneful  in  an  elective  government, 
he  uttered  his  most  solemn  remonstrances,  as  well  as 
against  inveterate  antipathies  or  passionate  attach 
ments  in  respect  to  foreign  nations.  While  he  thought 
that  the  jealousy  of  a  free  people  ought  to  be  constantly 
and  impartially  awake  against  the  insidious  wiles  of 
foreign  influence,  he  wished  that  good  faith  and  justice 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  337 

should  he  observed  towards  all  nations,  and  peace  and 
harmony  cultivated.  In  his  opinion,  honesty,  no  less  in 
public  than  in  private  affairs,  is  always  the  best  policy. 
Providence,  he  believed,  had  connected  the  permanent 
felicity  of  a  nation  with  its  virtue.  Other  subjects,  to 
which  he  alluded,  were  the  importance  of  credit,  of 
economy,  of  a  reduction  of  the  public  debt,  and  of  liter 
ary  institutions:  above  all  he  recommended  religion  and 
morality  as  indispensably  necessary  to  political  prosper 
ity. — "In  vain,"  says  he,  "would  that  man  claim  the 
tribute  of  patriotism,  who  should  labour  to  subvert  these 
great  pillars  of  human  happiness,  these  lirmest  props  of 
the  duties  of  men  and  citizens."  Bequeathing  these 
counsels  to  his  countrymen,  he  continued  in  office  till  the 
fourth  of  March,  1797,  when  he  attended  the  inaugura 
tion  of  his  successor,  Mr.  Adams,  and  with  complacency 
saw  him  invested  with  the  powers,  which  had  for  so 
long  a  time  been  exercised  by  himself.  He  then  retired 
to  Mount  Vernon,  giving  to  the  world  an  example,  most 
humiliating  to  its  emperors  and  kings;  the  example  of  a 
man  voluntarily  disrobing  himself  of  the  highest  author 
ity,  and  returning  to  private  life  with  a  character,  having 
upon  it  no  stain  of  ambition,  of  covetousness,  of  profu 
sion,  of  luxury,  of  oppression,  or  of  injustice. 

It  was  now  that  the  soldier,  the  statesman  and  the 
patriot,  hoped  to  repose  himself,  after  the  toils  of  so 
many  years.  But  he  had  not  been  long  in  retirement, 
before  the  outrages  of  Republican  France  induced  our 
government  to  raise  an  army,  of  which,  in  July,  1798,  he 
was  appointed  Commander  in  chief.  Though  he  ac 
cepted  the  appointment,  his  services  were  not  demand 
ed,  and  he  himself  did  not  believe  that  an  invasion 
would  take  place.  Pacific  overtures  were  soon  made 
by  the  French  Directory;  but  he  did  not  live  to  see  the 
restoration  of  peace.  On  Friday,  December  13, 1799, 
while  attending  to  some  improvements  upon  his  estate, 
he  was  exposed  to  a  light  rain,  which  wetted  his  neck 
and  hair.  Unapprehensive  of  danger,  he  passed  the 
afternoon  in  his  usual  manner ;  but  at  night  he  was  seized 
with  an  inflammatory  affection  of  the  windpipe.  The 
disease  commenced  with  a  violent  ague,  accompanied 

T2 


338  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

with  some  pain,  and  a  sense  of  stricture  in  the  throat,  a 
cough,  and  a  difficult  deglutition;  which  were  soon  suc 
ceeded  by  fever,  and  a  quick  and  laborious  respiration. 
About  twelve  or  fourteen  ounces  of  blood  were  taken 
from  him.  In  the  morning  his  family  physician,  Doctor 
Craik,  was  sent  for;  but  the  utmost  exertions  of  medical 
skill  were  applied  in  vain.  The  appointed  time  of  his 
death  was  near.  Believing  from  the  commencement  of 
his  complaint  that  it  would  be  mortal,  a  few  hours  before 
his  departure,  after  repeated  efforts  to  be  understood, 
he  succeeded  in  expressing  a  desire  that  he  might  be 
permitted  to  die,  without  beh'g  disquieted  by  unavailing 
attempts  to  rescue  .him  from  his  fate.  After  it  became 
impossible  to  get  any  thing  down  his  throat,  he  undress 
ed  himself  and  went  to  bed,  there  to  die.  To  his  friend 
and  physician,  who  sat  on  his  bed,  and  took  his  head  in 
his  lap,  he  said  with  difficulty, 'Doctor,  I  am  dying,  and 
have  been  dying  for  a  long  time ;  but  1  am  not  afraid  to 
die.'  Respiration  became  more  and  more  contracted 
and  imperfect,  until  half  past  eleven  on  Saturday  night, 
when,  retaining  the  full  possession  of  his  intellect  he 
expired  without  a  struggle.  Thus,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
December,  1799,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of  his  age, 
died  the  father  of  his  country,  'The  man,  first  in  war, 
first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  fellow-cit 
izens.'  This  event  spread  a  gloom  over  the  country; 
and  the  tears  of  America  proclaimed  the  services  and 
virtures  of  the  hero  and  sage,  and  exhibited  a  people 
not  insensible  to  his  worth.  The  senate  of  the  United 
States,  in  an  address  to  the  president  on  this. melancholy 
occasion,  indulged  their  patriotic  pride,  while  they  did 
not  transgress  the  bounds  of  truth,  in  speaking  of  their 
WASHINGTON.  'Ancient  and  modern  names,'  said 
they,  'are  diminished  before  him.  Greatness  and  guilt 
have  too  often  been  allied;  but  his  fame  is  whiter  than 
it  is  brilliant.  The  destroyers  of  nations  stood  abashed 
at  the  majesty  of  his  virtues.  It  reproved  the  intemper 
ance  of  their  ambition,  and  darkened  the  splendour  of 
victory.  The  scene  is  closed,  and  we  are  no  longer  anx 
ious  lest  misfortune  should  sully  his  glory;  he  has  trav 
elled  on  to  the  end  of  his  journey,  and  carried  with  him 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON.  339 

an  increasing  weight  of  honour;  he  has  deposited  it  safely 
where  misfortune  cannot  tarnish  it,  where  malice  cannot 
blast  it.' 

Gen.  Washington  was  rather  above  the  common  stat 
ure;  his  frame  was  robust,  and  his  constitution  vigor 
ous.  His  exterior  created  .in  the  beholder  the  idea  of 
strength  united  with  manly  gracefulness.  His  eyes  were 
of  a  gray  colour,  and  his  complexion  light.  His  man 
ners  were  rather  reserved  than  free.  His  person  and 
whole  deportment  exhibited  an  unaffected  and  indescri 
bable  dignity,  unrningled  with  haughtiness,  of  which  all 
who  approached  him,  were  sensible.  The  attachment 
of  those,  who  possessed  his  friendship  was  ardent  but 
always  respectful.  His  temper  was  humane,  benevolent, 
and  conciliatory;  but  there  was  a  quickness  in  his  sensi 
bility  to  any  thing  apparently  offensive,  which  experi 
ence  had  taught  him  to  watch  and  correct.  He  made 
MO  pretensions  to  vivacity  or  wit.  Judgment  rather  than 
genius  constituted  the  most  prominent  feature  of  his 
character.  As  a  military  man  he  was  brave,  enterpri 
sing,  and  cautious.  At  the  head  of  a  multitude,  whom 
it  was  sometimes  impossible  to  reduce  to  proper  disci 
pline  before  the  expiration  of  their  time  of  service,  and 
having  to  struggle  almost  continually  with  the  want  of 
supplies,  he  yet  was  able  to  contend  with  an  adversary- 
superior  in  numbers,  well  disciplined,  and  completely 
equipped,  and  was  the  means  of  saving  his  country.  The 
measure  of  his  caution  has  by  some  been  represented  as 
too  abundant ;  but  he  sometimes  formed  a  plan  which  his 
brave  officers  thought  was  too  adventurous,  and  some 
times  contrary  to  their  advice  he  engaged  in  battle. — 
If  his  name  is  not  rendered  illustrious  by  splendid 
achievements,  it  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  the  want  of 
military  enterprise.  He  conducted  the  war  with  that 
consummate  prudence  and  wisdom,  which  the  situation, 
of  his  country  and  the  state  of  his  array  demanded.  He 
also  possessed  a  firmrfess  of  resolution,  which  neither 
dangers  nor  difficulties  could  shake.  In  his  civil  ad 
ministration  he  exhibited  repeated  proofs  of  that  prac 
tical  good  sense,  of  that  sound  judgment  which  is  the 
most  valuable  quality  of  the  human  mind.  More  than 


1540  GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 

once  lie  put  his  whole  popularity  to  hazard  in  pursuing 
measures,  which  were  dictated  by  a  sense  of  duty,  and 
which  he  thought  would  promote  the  welfare  of  his 
country.  In  speculation  he  was  a  real  republican,  sin 
cerely  attached  to  the  constitution  of  the  United  States, 
and  to  that  system  of  equal,  political  rights,  on  which  it 
is  founded.  Real  liberty,  he  thought,  was  to  be  pre 
served  only  by  preserving  the  authority  of  the  laws,  and 
maintaining  the  energy  of  government.  Of  incorrupti 
ble  integrity,  his  ends  were  always  upright,  and  the 
means,  which  he  employed,  were  always  pure.  He  was 
a  politician,  to  whom  wiles  were  absolutely  unknown. 
When  any  measure  of  importance  was  proposed,  he 
sought  information,  and  was  ready  to  hear  without  pre 
judice,  whatever  could  be  said  in  relation  to  the  subject; 
lie  suspended  his  judgment  till  it  was  necessary  to  de 
cide:  but  after  his  decision  had  been  thus  deliberately 
made  it  was  seldom  shaken,  and  he  was  as  active  and 
persevering  in  executing,  as  he  had  been  cool  in  forming 
it.  He  possessed  an  innate  and  unassuming  modesty, 
which  adulation  would  have  offended,  which  the  plau 
dits  of  millions  could  not  betray  into  indiscretion,  and 
which  was  blended  with  a  high  sense  of  personal  digni 
ty  and  a  just  consciousness  of  the  respect  which  is  due 
to  station. 

With  regard  to  the  religious  character  of  General 
Washington,  there  have  been  different  opinions.  In  the 
extracts  from  some  of  his  letters,  which  have  been  pub 
lished  by  the  historian  of  his  life,  the  name  of  the  Su 
preme  Being  is  once  or  twice  introduced  in  a  manner, 
which,  in  common  conversation  is  deemed  irreverent. 
It  is  also  understood,  that  in  a  few  instances  during  the 
war,  particularly  when  he  met  General  Lee  retreating 
in  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  his  language  was  unguared 
in  this  respect.  It  may  not  be  impossible,  that  a  good 
man  in  a  moment  of  extreme  irritation  should  utter,  a 
profane  expression ;  but  perhaps  it  is  less  possible,  that 
such  a  man,  when  his  passion  has  passed  shvay,  and  his 
sober  recollections  have  returned,  should  not  repent  bit 
terly  of  his  irreverence  to  the  name  of  God.  On  the 
•ther  hand.  General  Washington,  when  at  the  head  of 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON,  341 

the  army,  issued  public  orders,  calling  upon  his  officers 
to  discountenance  the  habit  of  profanity;  he  speaks  in 
his  writing  of  "the  pure  and  benign  light  of  revelation," 
and  of  the  necessity  of  imitating  "the  charity,  humility, 
and  pacific  temper  of  mind,  which  were  the  characteris 
tics  of  the  Divine  Author  of  our  blessed  religion;"  he 
gratefully  acknowledged  the  interpositions  of  Providence 
in  favour  of  this  country;  his  life  was  upright  and  virtu 
ous;  he  principally  supported  an  episcopal  church  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Mount  Vernon,  where  he  constantly 
attended  public  worship;  during  the  war  he  not  unfre- 
quently  rode  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  camp  for  the  ben 
efit  of  the  institutions  of  religion;  and  it  is  believed, 
that  he  every  day  had  his  hour  of  retirement  from  the 
world  for  the  purpose  of  private  devotion. 

Gen.  Washington  was  blessed  with  abundant  wealth, 
and  he  was  not  ignorant  of  the  pleasure  of  employing  it 
for  generous  purposes.  His  style  of  living  was  dignifi 
ed,  though  he  maintained  the  strictest  economy.  While 
he  was  in  the  army  he  wrote  to  the  superintendent  of 
his  estate  in  the  following  terms,  "Let  the  hospitality  of 
the  house  be  kept  up  with  regard  to  the  poor.  Let  no 
one  go  hungry  away.  If  any  of  this  sort  of  people  should 
be  in  want  of  corn,  supply  their  necessities,  provided  it 
does  not  encourage  them  in  idleness.  I  have  no  objec 
tion  to  your  giving  my  money  in  charity,  when  you  think 
it  will  be  well  bestowed ;  I  mean,  that  it  is  my  desire, 
that  it  shotild  be  done.  You  are  to  consider,  that  neither 
myself  nor  my  wife  are  in  the  way  to  do  these  good  offi 
ces."  Thus  was  he  beneficent,  while  at  the  same  time 
he  required  an  exact  compliance  with  engagements.  A 
pleasing  proof  of  the  generous  spirit  which  governed 
him,  is  exhibited  in  his  conduct  towards  the  son  of  his 
friend  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette.  The  Marquis,  after 
fighting  in  this  country  for  American  liberty,  had  re 
turned  to  France;  but  in  the  convulsions  of  the  French 
revolution  he  was  exiled  and  imprisoned  in  Germany. 
General  Washington  gave  evidence  of  sincere  attach 
ment  to  the  unhappy  nobleman  not  only  by  exerting  all 
his  influence  to  procure  his  release  from  confinement,  but 
by  extending  his  patronage  to  his  son,  who  made  his 


342  ANTHONY    WAYNE. 

escape  from  France,  and  arrived  with  his  tutor  at  Bos 
ton,  in  1795.  As  soon  as  he  was  informed  of  his  arri 
val,  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  requesting  him  to  visit  the 
young  gentleman  and  make  him  acquainted  with  the  re 
lations  between  this  country  and  France,  which  would 
prevent  the  president  of  the  United  States  from  publicly 
espousing  his  interest,  but  to  assure  him  of  his  protection 
and  support.  He  also  directed  his  friend  to  draw  upon 
him  for  moneys  to  defray  all  the  expenses,  which  young 
La  Fayette  might  incur.  Towards  his  slaves  General 
Washington  manifested  the  greatest  care  and  kindness. 
Their  servitude  lay  with  weight  upon  his  mind,  and  he 
directed  in  his  will,  that  they  should  be  emancipated  on 
the  decease  of  his  wife.  There  were  insuperable  diffi 
culties  in  the  way  of  their  receiving  freedom  previously 
to  this  event.  On  the  death  of  Mrs.  Washington,  May 
22d,  1802,  the  estate  of  G^4n.  Washington,  as  he  had  no 
children,  was  divided  according  to  his  will  among  his 
and  her  relations.  It  amounted  by  his  own  estimate  to 
more  than  five  hundred  thousand  dollars."* 


ANTHONY  WAYNE, 

Major-General  in  the  American  Army. 

"ANTHONY  WAYNE,  a  major  general  in  the  American 
army,  occupies  a  conspicuous  station  among  the  heroes 
and  patriots  of  the  American  revolution.  He  was  born 
in  the  year  1745,  in  Chester  county,  in  the*state,  then 
colony,  of  Pennsylvania.  His  father,  who  was  a  respec 
table  farmer,  WHS  many  years  a  representative  for  the 
county  of  Chester,  in  the  general  assembly,  before  the 
revolution.  His  grandfather,  who  was  distinguished  for 
his  attachment  to  the  principles  of  liberty,  bore  a  cap 
tain's  commission  under  King  William,  at  the  battle  of 
the  Boyne.  Anthony  Wayne  succeeded  his  father  as 
representative  for  the  county  of  Chester,  in  the  year 
1773;  and  from  his  first  appearance  in  public  life,  dis 
tinguished  himself  as  a  firm  and  decided  patriot.  He 
opposed,  with  much  ability,  the  unjust  demands  of  the. 

^Allen's  Biog.  Dictionary. 


ANTHONY    WAYNE.  343 

mother  country,  and  in  connexion  with  some  gentlemen 
of  distinguished  talents,  was  of  material  service  in  pre 
paring  the  way  for  the  firm  and  decisive  part  which 
Pennsylvania  took  in  the  general  contest. 

In  1775,  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  regi 
ment,  which  his  character  enabled  him  to  raise  in  a  few 
weeks,  in  his  native  county.  In  the  same  year,  he  was 
detached  under  General  Thompson  into  Canada.  In  the 
defeat  which  followed,  in  which  Gen.  Thompson  was 
made  a  prisoner,  Col.  Wayne,  though  wounded,  display 
ed  great  gallantry  and  good  conduct,  in  collecting  and 
bringing  off  the  scattered  and  broken  bodies  of  troops. 

In  the  campaign  of  1776,  he  served  under  Gen.  Gates, 
at  Ticonderoga,  and  was  highly  esteemed  by  that  offi 
cer  for  both  his  bravery  and  skill  as  an  engineer.  At 
the  close  of  that  campaign  he  was  created  a  brigadier 
general. 

At  the  battle  of  Brandywine,  he  behaved  with  his 
usual  bravery,  and  for  a  long  time  opposed  the  progress 
of  the  enemy  at  Chad's  Ford.  In  this  action,  the  inferi 
ority  of  the  Americans  in  numbers,  discipline,  and  arms, 
gave  them  little  chance  of  success;  but  the  peculiar 
situation  of  the  public  mind  was  supposed  to  require  a 
battle  to  be  risked:  the  ground  was  bravely  disputed, 
and  the  action  was  not  considered  as  decisive.  The 
spirit  of  the  troops  was  preserved  by  a  belief  that  the 
loss  of  the  enemy  had  equalled  their  own.  As  it  was 
the  intention  of  the  American  commander  in  chief  to 
hazard  another  action  on  the  first  favourable  opportu 
nity  that  should  offer,  Gen.  Wayne  was  detached  with 
his  division,  to  harass  the  enemy  by  every  means  in  his 
power.  The  British  troops  were  encamped  at  Tre- 
dyffrin,  and  General  Wayne  was  stationed  about  three 
miles  in  the  rear  of  their  left  wing,  near  the  Paoli  tav 
ern,  and  from  the  precautions  he  had  taken,  he  consid 
ered  himself  secure,  but  about  eleven  o'clock,  on  the 
night  of  the  20th  September,  Major  General  Gray,  hav 
ing  driven  in  his  pickets,  suddenly  attacked  him  with  fix 
ed  bayonets.  Wayne,  unable  to  withstand  the  superior 
number  of  assailants,  was  obliged  to  retreat ;  but  formed 
again  at  a  small  distance,  having  lost  about  one  hun- 


344  ANTHONY    WAYNE. 

dred  and  fifty  killed  and  wounded.  As  blame  was  at 
tached  by  some  of  the  officers  of  the  army,  to  General 
Wayne,  for  allowing  himself  to  be  surprised  in  this  man 
ner,  he  demanded  a  court  martial,  which,  after  exam 
ining  the  necessary  evidence,  declared  that  he  had  done 
every  thing  to  be  expected  from  an  active,  brave,  and 
vigilant  officer;  and  acquitted  him  with  honour. 

A  neat  marble  monument  has  been  recently  erected 
on  the  battle  ground,  to  the  memory  of  the  gallant  men 
who  fell  on  the  night  of  the  20th  September.  1777. 

Shortly  after  was  fought  the  battle  of  Germantown, 
in  which  he  greatly  signalized  himself,  by  his  spirited 
manner  of  leading  his  men  into  action.  In  this  action, 
he  had  one  horse  shot  under  him,  and  another  as  he  was 
mounting;  and  at  the  same  instant,  received  slight 
wounds  in  the  left  foot  and  left  hand. 

In  all  councils  of  war,Gen.  Wayne  was  distinguished 
for  supporting  the  most  energetic  and  decisive  measures. 
In  the  one  previous  to  the  battle  of  Monmouth,  he  and 
Gen.  Cadwallader  were  the  only  officers  decidedly  in 
favour  of  attacking  the  British  army.  The  American 
officers  are  said  to  have  been  influenced  by  the  opinions 
of  the  Europeans.  The  Baron  De  Steuben,  and  Gene 
rals  Lee  and  Dii  Portail,  whose  military  skill  was  in 
high  estimation,  had  warmly  opposed  an  engagement,  as 
too  hazardous.  But  General  Washington,  whose  opin 
ion  was  in  favour  of  an  engagement,  made  such  disposi 
tion  as  would  be  most  likely  to  lead  to  it.  In  that  ac 
tion,  so  honourable  to  the  American  arms,  Gen.  Wayne 
was  conspicuous  in  the  ardour  of  his  attack.  General 
Washington,  in  his  letter  to  congress,  observes, '  Were  I 
to  conclude  my  account  of  this  day's  transactions  with 
out  expressing  my  obligations  to  the  officers  of  the  army 
in  general,  I  should  do  injustice  to  their  merit,  and  vio 
lence  to  my  own  feelings.  They  seemed  to  vie  with 
each  other  in  manifesting  their  zeal  and  bravery.  The 
catalogue  of  those  who  distinguished  themselves,  is  too 
long  to  admit  of  particularizing  individuals.  I  cannot, 
however,  forbear  mentioning  Brig.  Gen.  Wayne,  whose 
good  conduct  and  bravery,  throughout  the  whole  action, 
deserves  particular  commendation." 


ANTHONY    WAYNE.  345 

"Among  the  many  exploits  of  gallantry  and  prowess 
which  shed  a  lustre  on  the  fame  of  our  revolutionary 
army,  the  storming  of  the  fort  at  Stony-Point  has  always 
been  considered  one  of  the  most  brilliant. 

"To  Gen.  Wayne,  who  commanded  the  light-infantry 
of  the  army,  the  execution  of  the  plan  was  intrusted. 
Secrecy  was  deemed  so  much  more  essential  to  success 
than  numbers,  that  it  was  thought  unadvisable  to  add  to 
the  foice  already  on  the  lines.  One  brigade  was  order 
ed  to  commence  its  march,  so  as  to  reach  the  scene  of 
action  in  time  to  cover  the  troops  engaged  in  the  attack, 
in  case  of  any  unlocked  for  disaster;  and  Major  Lee,  of 
the  light-dragoons,  who  had  been  eminently  useful  in  ob 
taining  the  intelligence  which  led  to  the  enterprise,  was 
associated  with  General  Wayne,  as  far  as  cavalry  could 
be  employed  in  such  a  service. 

The  night  of  the  15th  of  July,  1779,  was  fixed  on  for 
the  assault;  and  it  being  suspected  that  the  garrison 
would  probably  be  more  on  their  guard  towards  day, 
twelve  was  chosen  for  the  hour. 

Stony-Point  is  a  commanding  hill,  projecting  far  into 
the  Hudson,  which  washes  three  fourths  of  its  base ;  the 
remaining  fourth  is  in  a  great  measure,  covered  by  a 
deep  marsh,  commencing  near  the  river  on  the  upper 
side,  and  continuing  into  it  below.  Over  this  marsh, 
there  is  only  one  crossing  place.  But  at  its  junction  with 
the  river  is  a  sandy  beach  passable  at  low  tide.  On  the 
summit  of  this  hill  was  erected  the  fort,  which  was  fur 
nished  with  a  sufficient  number  of  heavy  pieces  of  ord 
nance.  Several  breastworks  and  strung  batteries  were 
advanced  in  front  of  the  principal  work,  and  about  half 
way  down  the  hill,  were  two  rows  of  abattis.  The 
batteries  were  calculated  to  command  the  beach,  and 
the  crossing  place  of  the  marsh,  and  to  rake  and  enfi 
lade  any  column  which  might  be  advancing  from  either 
of  those  points  towards  the  fort.  In  addition  to  these, 
defences,  several  vessels  of  war  were  stationed  IB  the 
river,  so  as,  in  a  considerable  degree,  to  command  the 
ground  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  fort  was  garrisoned  by  about  six  hundred  men, 
under  the  command  of  lieutenant  colonelJohnson. 

U2 


346  ANTHONY    WAYNE. 

At  noon  of  the  day  preceding  the  night  of  the  at 
tack,  the  light  infantry  commenced  their  march  from 
Sandy  beach,  distant  fourteen  miles  from  Stony  Point, 
and  passing  through  an  excessively  rugged  and  moun 
tainous  country,  arrived  about  eight  in  the  afternoon  at 
Spring  Steel's,  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  fort,  w-here 
the  dispositions  for  the  assault  were  made. 

It  was  intended  to  attack  the  works  on  the  right  and 
left  flanks  at  the  same  instant.  The  regiment  of  Febi- 
ger,  and  of  Meiggs,  with  Maj.  Hull's  detachment,  formed 
the  right  column,  and  Butler's  regiment,  with  two  com 
panies  under  major  Murfree,  formed  the  left.  One  hun 
dred  and  fifty  volunteers,  led  by  lieutenant-colonel  Fleu- 
ry  and  major  Posey,  constituted  the  van  of  the  right; 
and  one  hundred  volunteers  under  Major  Stuart,  compo 
sed  the  van  of  the  left.  At  half  past  eleven,  the  two 
columns  moved  on  to  the  charge,  the  van  of  each  with 
unloaded  muskets  and  fixed  bayonets.  They  were  each 
preceded  by  a  forlorn  hope  of  twenty  men,  the  one  com 
manded  by  lieutenant  Gibbon,  and  the  other  by  Lieut. 
Knox,  whose  duty  it  was  to  remove  the  abattis  and 
other  obstructions,  in  order  to  open  a  passage  for  the 
columns  which  followed  close  in  the  rear. 

Proper  measures  having  been  taken  to  secure  every 
individual  on  the  route,  who  could  give  intelligence  of 
their  approach,  the  Americans  reached  the  marsh  undis 
covered.  But  unexpected  difficulties  having  been  ex 
perienced  in  surmounting  this  and  other  obstructions  in 
the  'way,  the  assault  did  not  commence  until  twenty  min 
utes  after  twelve.  Both  columns  then  rushed  forward, 
under  a  tremendous  fire  of  musketry  and  grape  shot. 
Surmounting  every  obstacle,  they  entered  the  works  at 
the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and  without  having  discharged 
a  single  piece,  obtained  complete  possession  of  the  post. 

The  humanity  displayed  by  the  conquerors  was  not 
less  conspicuous,  nor  less  honourable,  than  their  courage. 
Not  a  single  individual  suffered  after  resistance  had 
ceased. 

All  the  troops  engaged  in  this  perilous  service  mani 
fested  a  dc^rcf  of  ardour  and  impetuosity,  which  proved 
til  cm  to  be  capable  of  the  most  difficult  enterprises  j  and 


K:VLI:V  w 


o  ,v  i-;  v    r  D  i  . 


ANTHONY    WAYNE.  347 

all  distinguished  themselves  whose  situation  enabled 
them  to  do  so.  Colonel  Fleury  was  the  first  to  enter  the 
fort,  and  strike  the  British  standard.  Major  Posey 
mounted  the  works  almost  at  the  same  instant,  and  was 
the  first  to  give  the  watch-word — uThe  fort's  our  own." 
Lieutenants  Gibbon  and  Knox  performed  the  service  al 
lotted  to  them,  with  a  degree  of  intrepidity  which  could 
not  be  surpassed.  Out  of  twenty  men  who  constituted 
the  party  of  the  former,seventeen  were  killed  or  wounded. 

The  loss  sustained  by  the  garrison  was  not  considera 
ble.  The  return  made  by  lieutenant-colonel  Johnson, 
represented  their  dead  at  only  twenty,  including  one 
captain,  and  their  wounded  at  six  officers,  and  sixty 
eight  privates.  The  return  made  by  Gen.  Wayne  states 
their  dead  at  sixty-three,  including  two  officers.  This 
difference  may  be  accounted  for,  by  supposing,  that 
among  those  colonel  Johnson  supposed  to  be  missing, 
there  were  many  killed.  The  prisoners  amounted  to 
five  hundred  and  forty-three,  among  whom  were  one 
lieutenant-colonel,  four  captains,  and  twenty  subaltern 
officers.  The  military  stores  taken  in  the  fort  were  also 
considerable. 

The  loss  sustained  by  the  assailants  was  by  no  means 
proportioned  to  the  apparent  danger  of  the  enterprise. 
The  killed  and  wounded  did  not  exceed  one  hundred 
men.  Gen.  Wayne  himself  who  marched  at  the  head 
of  Febigers  regiment  in  the  right  column,  received  a 
slight  wound  in  the  head,  which  stunned  him  for  a  time, 
but  did  not  compel  him  to  leave  the  column.  Being  sup 
ported  by  his  aids,  he  entered  the  fort  with  the  regi 
ment.  Lieutenant-colonel  Hay  was  also  among  the 
wounded.'* 

The  intrepidity,  joined  with  humanity,  its  noblest 
companion,  displayed  on  that  occasion,  by  Gen.  Wayne 
and  his  brave  followers,  cannot  be  too  highly  esteemed 
nor  too  frequently  commemorated. 

^Marshall's  life  of  Washington. 


348  ANTHONY    WAYNE. 

General  orders  for  the  attack. 

The  troops  will  march  at o'clock,  and  move  by 

the  right,  making  a  halt  at  the  creek,  or  run,  on  this  side, 
next  Clement's;  every  officer  and  non-commissioned 
officer  will  remain  with,  and  be  answerable  for  every 
man  in  his  platoon;  no  soldier  to  be  permitted  to  quit 
his  ranks  on  any  pretext  whatever,  until  a  general  halt 
is  made,  and  then  to  be  attended  by  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  platoon. 

When  the  head  of  the  troops  arrive  in  the  rear  of  the 
hill,  colonel  Febiger  will  form  his  regiment  into  a  solid 
column  of  a  half  platoon  in  front  as  fast  as  they  come 
up.  Col.  Meiggs  will  form  next  in  Col.  Febiger's  rear, 
and  major  Hull  in  the  rear  of  Meigg's,  which  will  form 
the  right  column. 

Col.  Butler  will  form  a  column  on  the  left  of  Febiger, 
and  major  Murphy  in  his  rear.  Every  officer  and  soldier 
will  then  fix  a  piece  of  white  paper  in  the  most  con 
spicuous  part  of  his  hat  or  cap,  as  a  mark  to  distinguish 
them  from  the  enemy. 

At  the  word  march  colonel  Fleury  will  take  charge  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  determined  and  picked  men,  prop 
erly  officered,  with  arms  unloaded,  placing  their  whole 
dependence  on  fixed  bayonets,  who  will  move  about 
twenty  paces  in  front  of  the  right  column,  and  enter  the 
sally-port;  he  is  to  detach  an  officer  and  twenty  men  a 
little  in  front,  whose  business  will  be  to  secure  the  sen 
tries,  and  remove  the  abattis  and  obstructions  for  the 
column  to  pass  through.  The  column  will  follow  close 
in  the  rear  with  shouldered  muskets,  led  by  Col.  Febiger 
and  General  Wayne  in  person: — when  the  works  are 
forced,  and  not  before,  the  victorious  troops  as  they  enter 

will  give  the  watch-word with  repeated  and 

loud  voices,  and  drive  the  enemy  from  their  works  and 
guns,  which  will  favour  the  pass  of  the  whole  troops; 
should  the  enemy  refuse  to  surrender,  or  attempt  to  make 
their  escape  by  water  or  otherwise,  effectual  means 
must  be  used  to  effect  the  former  and  prevent  the  latter. 

Col.  Butler  will  move  by  the  route  (2,)  preceded  by 
one  hundred  chosen  men  with  fixed  bayonets,  properly 
officered,  at  the  distance  of  twenty  yards  in  front  of  the 
column,  which  will  follow  under  Col.  JButler  with  shouj- 


ANTHONY    WAYNE.  349 

dered  muskets.  These  hundred  will  also  detach  a 
proper  of^cer  and  twenty  men  a  little  in  front  to  remove 
the  obstructions;  as  soon  as  they  gain  the  works  they 
will  also  give  and  continue  the  watch-word,  which  will 
prevent  confusion  and  mistake. 

If  any  soldier  presume  to  take  his  musket  from  his 
shoulder,  or  to  fire,  or  begin  the  battle  until  ordered  by 
his  proper  officer,  he  shall  be  instantly  put  to  death  by 
the  officer  next  him;  for  the  misconduct  of  one  man  is 
not  to  put  the  whole  troops  in  danger  or  disorder,  and  he 
be  suffered  to  pass  with  life. 

After  the  troops  begin  to  advance  to  the  works,  the 
strictest  silence  must  be  observed,  and  the  closest  at 
tention  paid  to  the  commands  of  the  officers. 

The  general  has  the  fullest  confidence  in  the  bravery 
and  fortitude  of  the  corps  that  he  has  the  happiness  to 
command — the  distinguished  honour  conferred  on  every 
officer  and  soldier  who  has  been  drafted  into  this  corps 
by  his  excellency  Gen.  Washington,  the  credit  of  the 
states  they  respectively  belong  to,  and  their  own  reputa 
tions,  will  be  such  powerful  motives  for  each  man  to  dis 
tinguish  himself,  that  the  general  cannot  have  the  least 
doubt  of  a  glorious  victory;  and  he  hereby  most  solemn 
ly  engages  to  reward  the  first  man  that  enters  the  works 
with  five  hundred  dollars,  and  immediate  promotion,  to 
the  second  four  hundred  dollars,  to  the  third  three  hun 
dred  dollars,  to  the  fourth  two  hundred  dollars,  and  to 
the  fifth  one  hundred  dollars ;  and  will  represent  the  con 
duct  of  every  officer  and  soldier,  who  distinguishes  him 
self  in  this  action,  in  the  most  favourable  point  of  view 
to  his  excellency,  whose  greatest  pleasure  is  in  reward 
ing  merit. 

But  should  there  be  any  soldier  so  lost  to  every  feel 
ing  of  honour,  as  to  attempt  to  retreat  one  single  foot,  or 
skulk  in  the  face  of  danger,  the  officer  next  to  him  is 
immediately  to  put  him  to  death,  that  he  may  no  longer 
disgrace  the  name  of  a  soldier,  or  the  corps  or  state  he 
belongs  to. 

As  general  Wayne  is  determined  to  share  the  danger 
of  the  night— so  he  wishes  to  participate  in  the  glory  of 
the  day  in  common  with  his  fellow  soldiers." 


350  ANTHONY  WAYNB, 

"Immediately  after  the  surrender  of  Stony  Point,  Gen« 
Wayne  transmitted  to  the  Commander  in  chief,  the  fol 
lowing  laconic  letter: — 

"Stony  Point,  July  16,  1779. 

"2  o'clock,  A.  M. 

"Dear  General — The  fort  and  garrison,  with  Colonel 
Johnson,  are  ours;  our  officers  and  men  behaved  like 
men  determined  to  be  free. 

"Yours  most  sincerely, 

"ANTHONY  WAYNE. 
"Gen.  Washington." 

In  the  campaign  of  1781.  in  which  Lord  Cornwallis, 
and  a  British  army  were  obliged  to  surrender  prisoners 
of  war,,  he  bore  a  conspicuous  part.  His  presence  of 
mind  never  failed  him  in  the  most  critical  situations  — 
Of  this  he  gave  an  eminent  example  on  the  James  river. 
Having  been  deceived  by  some  false  information,  into  a 
belief  that  the  British  army  had  passed  the  river,  leav 
ing  but  the  rearguard  behind,  he  hastened  to  attack  the 
latter  before  it  should  also  have  effected  its  passage; 
but  on  pushing  through  a  morass  and  wood,  instead  of 
the  rear-guard  he  found  the  whole  British  army  drawn 
up  close  to  him.  His  situation  did  not  admit  of  a  mo 
ment's  deliberation.  Conceiving  the  boldest  to  be  the 
safest  measure,  he  immediately  led  his  small  detach 
ment,  not  exceeding  800  men,  to  the  charge,  and  after  a 
short,  but  very  smart  and  close  firiog,  in  which  he  lost 
118  of  his  men,  he  succeeded  in  bringing  off  the  rest 
under  cover  of  the  wood.  Lord  Cornwallis,  suspecting 
the  attack  to  be  a  feint,  in  order  to  draw  him  into  an 
ambuscade,  would  not  permit  his  troops  to  pursue. 

The  enemy  having  made  a  considerable  head  in 
Georgia,  Wayne  was  despatched  by  Gen.  Washington 
to  take  command  of  the  forces  in  that  state,  and,  after 
some  sanguinary  engagements  succeeded  in  establishing 
security  and  order.  For  his  services  in  that  state  the 
legislature  presented  him  with  a  valuable  farm. 

On  the  peace,  which  followed  shortly  after,  he  retired 
to  private  life;  but  in  1789,  we  find  him  a  member  of 


ANTHONY  WAYNE*  351 

the  Pennsylvania  convention,  and  one  of  those  in  favour 
of  the  present  federal  constitution  of  the  United  States. 

In  the  year  1792,  he  was  appointed  to  succeed  Gen. 
St.  Clair,  who  had  resigned  the  command  of  the  army 
engaged  against  the  Indians  on  our  western  frontier. 
Wayne  formed  an  encampment  at  Pittsburgh,  and  such 
exemplary  discipline  was  introduced  among  the  new 
troops,  that,  on  their  advance  into  the  Indian  country, 
they  appeared  like  veterans. 

The  Indians  had  collected  in  great  nurnhers,  and  it 
was  necessary  not  only  to  route  them,  hut  to  occupy 
their  country  by  a  chain  of  posts,  that  should,  for  the 
future,  check  their  predatory  incursions.  Pursuing  this 
regular  and  systematic  mode  of  advance,  the  autumn  of 
1793,  found  General  Wayne  with  his  army,  at  a  post  in 
the  wilderness,  called  Greensville,  about  six  miles  in  ad 
vance  of  Fort  Jefferson,  where  he  determined  to  encamp 
for  the  winter,  in  order  to  make  the  necessary  arrange 
ments  for  opening  the  campaign  to  effect  early  in  the 
following  spring.  After  fortifying  his  camp,  he  took  pos 
session  of  the  ground  on  which  the  Americans  had  been 
defeated  in  1791,  which  he  fortified  also,  and  called  the 
work  Fort  Recovery.  Here  he  piously  collected,  and, 
with  the  honours  of  war,  interred  the  bones  of  the  un 
fortunate  although  gallant  victims  of  the  4th  November, 
1791.  The  situation  of  the  army,  menacing  the  Indi 
an  villages,  effectually  prevented  any  attack  on  the 
white  settlements.  The  impossibility  of  procuring  the 
necessary  supplies  prevented  the  march  of  the  troops 
till  the  summer.  On  the  8th  of  August,  the  army  arri 
ved  at  the  junction  of  the  rivers  Au  Glaize  and  Miami  of 
the  lakes,  where  they  erected  works  for  the  protection 
of  the  stores.  About  thirty  miles  from  this  place  the 
British  had  formed  a  post,  in  the  vicinity  of  which  the 
Indians  had  assembled  their  whole  force.  On  the  15th 
the  army  again  advanced  down  the  Miami,  and  on  the 
18th,  arrived  at  the  Rapids.  On  the  following  day  they 
erected  some  works,  for  the  protection  of  the  baggage. 
The  situation  of  the  enemy  was  reconnoitered,  and  they 
were  found  posted  in  a  thick  wood,  in  the  rear  of  the 
British  fort.  On  the  20th,  the  army  advanced  to  the 


352  ANTHONY  WAYNE. 

attack.  The  Miami  covered  the  right  flank,  and  on 
the  left  were  the  mounted  volunteers,  commanded  by 
General  Todd.  After  marching  about  five  miles,  Major 
Price,  who  led  the  advance,  received  so  heavy  afire 
from  the  Indians,  who  were  stationed  behind  trees,  that 
he  was  compelled  to  fall  back.  The  enemy  had  occupied 
a  wood  in  the  front  of  the  British  fort,  which,  from  the 
quantity  of  fallen  timber,  could  not  be  entered  by  the 
horse.  The  legion  was  immediately  ordered  to  advance 
with  trailed  arms,  and  rouse  them  from  their  covert: 
the  cavalry  under  Capt.  Campbell,  were  directed  to  pass 
between  the  Indians  and  the  river,  while  the  volunteers, 
led  by  Gen.  Scott,  made  a  circuit  to  turn  their  flank.  So 
rapid,  however,  was  the  charge  of  the  legion,  that  be 
fore  the  rest  of  the  army  could  get  into  action,  the  ene 
my  were  completely  routed,  and  driven  through  the 
woods  for  more  than  two  miles,  and  the  troops  halted 
within  gun-shot  of  the  British  fort.  All  the  Indians' 
houses  and  conrfields  were  destroyed.  In  this  decisive 
action,  the  whole  loss  of  General  Wayne's  army,  in 
killed  and  wounded,  amounted  only  to  one  hundred  and 
seven  men.  As  hostilities  continued  on  the  part  of  the 
Indians,  their  whole  country  was  laid  waste,  and  forts 
established,  which  effectually  prevented  their  return. 

The  success  of  this  engagement  destroyed  the  ene 
mies'  power;  and,  in  the  following  year, General  Wayne 
concluded  a  definite  treaty  of  peace  with  them. 

A  life  of  peril  and  glory  was  terminated  in  December, 
1796.  He  had  shielded  his  country  from  the  murderous 
tomahawk  of  the  savage.  He  had  established  her 
boundaries.  He  had  forced  her  enemies  to  sue  for  her 
protection.  He  beheld  her  triumphant,  rich  in  arts  and 
potent  in  arms.  What  more  could  his  patriotic  spirit 
wish  to  see?  He  died  in  a  hut  at  Presque  Isle,  aged 
about  fifty-one  years,  and  was  buried  on  the  shore  of 
Lake  Erie. 

A  few  years  since  his  bones  were  taken  up  by  his  son, 
Isaac  Wayne,  Esq.  and  entombed  in  his  native  country ; 
and  by  direction  of  the  Pennsylvania  State  Society  of 
the  Cincinnati,  an  elegant  monument  was  erected.  It  is 
to  be  seen  within  the  cemetery  of  St.  David's  Church, 


OTHO  H.  WILLIAMS.  353 

situated  in  Chester  county.     It  is  constructed  of  white 
marble,  of  the  most  correct  symmetry  and  beauty."* 


OTHO  H.  WILLIAMS, 

Brigadier-General  in  the  American  Army. 

"THIS  gentleman  was  formed  for  eminence  in  any  sta 
tion.  His  talents  were  of  a  high  order,  and  his  attain 
ments  various  and  extensive.  Possessing  a  person  of 
uncommon  symmetry,  and  peculiarly  distinguished  by 
the  elegance  of  his  manners,  he  would  have  graced, 
alike,  a  court  or  a  camp. 

Rich  in  that  speceis  of  military  science  which  is  ac 
quired  by  experience,  and  a  correct,  systematic,  and 
severe  disciplinarian,  General  Greene  confided  to  him 
the  important  trust  of  adjutant  general  to  the  southern 
army.  The  services  which,  in  this  an'd  other  capacities, 
he  rendered  to  that  division  of  the  American  forces,  in 
the  course  of  their  toilsome  and  perilous  operations  were 
beyond  all  praise. 

He  was  born  in  the  county  of  Prince  George,  in  the 
year  1748,  and  received,  during  his  youth,  but  a  slender 
education.  This  he  so  much  improved  by  subsequent 
study,  that  few  men  had  a  finer  taste,  or  a  more  cultiva 
ted  intellect. 

He  commenced  his  military  career,  as  lieutenant  of  a 
rifle  company,  in  1775;  and,  in  the  course  of  the  follow 
ing  year,  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  a  major  in  a  rifle 
regiment. 

In  this  corpse  he  very  honourably  distinguished  him 
self  in  the  defence  of  Fort  Washington,  on  York  Island, 
when  assaulted  by  Sir  William  Howe;  and,  on  the  sur 
render  of  that  post  became  a  prisoner. 

Having  suffered  much  by  close  confinement,  during  his 
captivity,  he  was  exchanaged  for  major  Ackiand,  after 
the  capture  of  Burgoyne,  and  immediately  rejoined  the. 
standard  of  his  country. . 

Being  now  promoted  to  the  rank  of  colonel  of  a  regi 
ment  of  infantry,  he  was  detached,  under  the  Baron  De 
Kulb,  to  the  army  of  the  south. 

*.Amer.  Biographical  Doctionary. 

W2 


354  OTHO  H.  WILLIAMS. 

General  Gates  having  been  appointed  to  the  command 
of  this  division  of  the  American  forces,  he  was  present 
with  that  officer,  at  his  defeat  before  Camden ;  and  du 
ring  the  action  manifested  great  valour  and  skill,  in  di 
recting  and  leading  the  operations  against  the  enemy, 
while  resistance  was  practicable;  and  an  equal  degree 
of  self-possession  and  address,  in  conducting  the  troops 
from  the  field,  when  compelled  to  retreat. 

But  as  an  officer,  his  valour  and  skill  in  battle  were 
^among  the  lowest  of  his  qualifications.  His  penetration 
and  sagacity,  united  to  a  profound  judgment,  and  a  ca 
pacious  mind,  rendered  him,  in  the  cabinet,  particularly 
valuable. 

Hence,  he  was  one  of  Gen.  Greene's  favourite  counsel 
lors,  during  the  whole  of  his  southern  campaigns.  Nor 
did  any  thing  ever  occur,  either  through  neglect  or  mis 
take,  to  impair  the  confidence  thus  reposed  in  him.  In 
no  inconsiderable  degree,  he  was  to  Greene,  what  that 
officer  had  been  to  Gen.  Washington,  his  strongest  hope 
in  all  emergencies,  where  great  policy  and  address  were 
required. 

This  was  clearly  manifested,  by  the  post  assigned  to 
him  by  General  Greene,  during  his  celebrated  retreat 
through  North  Carolina. 

In  that  great  and  memorable  movement,  on  which  the 
fate  of  the  south  was  staked,  to  Williams  was  confided 
the  command  of  the  rear  guard,  which  was  literally  the 
shield  and  rampart  of  the  army.  Had  he  relaxed,  but 
for  a  moment,  in  his  vigilance  and  exertion,  or  been  guil 
ty  of  a  single  imprudent  act,  ruin  must  have  ensued. 

Nor  was  his  command  much  less  momentous,  when, 
recrossing  the  Dan,  Greene  again  advanced  on  the  ene 
my.  Still  in  the  post  of  danger  and  honour,  he  now,  in 
the  van  of  the  army,  commanded  the  same  corps  with 
which  he  had  previously  moved  in  the  rear. 

A  military  friend  who  knew  him  well,  has  given  us 
the  following  summary  of  his  character. 

"  He  possessed  that  range  of  mind,  although  self-edu 
cated,  which  entitled  him  to  the  highest  military  station, 
and  was  actuated  by  true  courage,  which  can  refuse,  as 
well  as  give  battle.  Soaring  far  above  the  reach  of  vul- 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  355 

gar  praise,  he  singly  aimed  at  promoting  the  common 
weal,  satisfied  with  the  consciousness  of  doing  right, 
and  desiring  only  that  share  of  applause,  which  was 
justly  his  own. 

There  was  a  loftiness  and  liberality  in  his  character, 
which  forbade  resort  to  intrige  and  hypocrisy  in  the  ac 
complishment  of  his  views,  and  rejected  the  contempti 
ble  practice  of  disparaging  others  to  exalt  himself. 

In  the  field  of  battle  he  was  self-possessed,  intelligent, 
and  ardent;  in  camp  circumspect, attentive, and  system 
atic;  in  council  sincere,  deep,  and  perspicuous.  During 
the  campaigns  of  General  Greene,  he  was  uniformly  one 
of  his  few  advisers,  and  held  his  unchanged  confidence. 
Nor  was  he  less  esteemed  by  his  brother  officers,  or  less 
respected  by  his  soldiery. 

Shortly  before  the  close  of  the  war,  he  was  promoted 
to  the  rank  of  brigadier  general."* 


BENEDICT  ARNOLD, 

The  Traitor. 

"  BENEDICT  ARNOLD,  a  major  general  in  the  American 
army  during  the  revolutionary  war,  and  infamous  for  de 
serting  the  cause  of  his  country,  was  early  chosen  cap 
tain  of  a  volunteer  company  in  New-Haven,  Connecti 
cut,  where  he  lived.  After  hearing  of  the  battle  of  Lex 
ington,  he  immediately  marched,  with  his  company,  for 
the  American  head-quarters,  and  reached  Cambridge* 
April  29,  1775. 

He  immediately  waited  on  the  Massachusetts  com 
mittee  of  safety,  and  informed  them  of  the  defenceless 
state  of  Ticonderoga.  The  committee  appointed  him  a 
colonel,  and  commissioned  him  to  raise  four  hundred 
men,  and  to  take  that  fortress.  He  proceeded  directly 
to  Vermont,  and  when  he  arrived  at  Castleton,  was  at 
tended  by  one  servant  only.  Here  he  joined  Colonel 
Allen,  and  on  the  10th  of  May  the  fortress  was  taken. 

In  the  fall  of  1775,  he  was  sent  by  the  commander  in 
chief  to  penetrate  through  the  wilderness  of  the  Dis- 

*Life  of  Greene. 


356  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

trict  of  Maine,  into  Canada.  On  the  16th  of  September, 
he  commenced  his  march,  with  about  one  thousand 
men,  consisting  of  New-England  infantry,  some  volun 
teers,  a  company  of  artillery,  and  three  companies  of 
riflemen.  One  division  was  obliged  to  return,  or  it  would 
have  perished  by  hunger.  After  sustaining  almost  in* 
credible  hardships,  he  in  six  weeks  arrived  at  Point  Levi, 
opposite  to  Quebec.  The  appearance  of  an  army, 
emerging  from  the  wilderness,  threw  the  city  into  the 
greatest  consternation  In  this  moment  of  surprise,  Ar 
nold  might  probably  have  become  master  of  the  place; 
but  the  small  crafts  and  boats  in  the  river  were  removed 
out  of  his  reach. 

It  seems  that  his  approach  was  not  altogether  unex 
pected.  He  had  imprudently,  a  number  of  days  before, 
sent  forward  a  letter  to  a  friend,  by  an  Indian,  who  be 
trayed  him.  A  delay  of  several  days,  on  account  of 
the  difficulty  of  passing  the  river  was  inevitable;  and 
the  critical  moment  was  lost. 

On  the  14th  of  November,  he  crossed  the  St.  Law- 
rence  in  the  night;  and  ascending  the  precipice  which 
Wolfe  had  climbed  before  him,  formed  his  small  corps 
on  the  height,  near  the  memorable  Plains  of  Abraham. 
With  only  about  seven  hundred  men,  one-third  of  whose 
muskets  had  been  rendered  useless  in  their  mardi 
through  the  wilderness,  success  could  not  be  expected. 
After  parading  some  days  on  the  heights  near  the 
town,  and  sending  two  flags  to  summon  the  inhabitants, 
he  retired  to  Point  aux  Trembles,  twenty  miles  above 
Quebec,  and  there  awaited  the  arrival  of  Montgomery, 
who  joined  him  on  the  first  of  December.  The  city  was 
immediately  besieged,  but  the  best  measures  had  been 
taken  for  its  defence.  On  the  morning  of  the  last  day 
of  the  year,  an  assault  was  made  on  the  one  side  of  the 
city,  by  Montgomery,  who  was  killed.  At  the.  same 
time,  Colonel  Arnold,  at  the  head  of  about  three  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men,  made  a  desperate  attack  on  the 
opposite  side.  Advancing  with  the  utmost  intrepidity 
along  the  St.  Charles,  through  a  narrow  path,  exposed 
to  an  incessant  fire  of  grape  shot  and  musketry  as  he 
approached  the  first  barrier,  he  received  a  musket  ball 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  357 

in  the  leg,  which  shattered  the  bone ;  and  he  was  carried 
off  to  the  canr.p.  Though  the  attack  was  unsuccessful, 
the  blockade  of  Quebec  was  continued  till  May,  1776; 
when  the  army,  which  was  in  no  condition  to  risk  an 
assault,  was  removed  to  a  more  defensible  position. — 
Arnold  was  compelled  to  relinquish  one  post  after  an 
other,  till  the  18th  of  June,  when  he  quitted  Canada. 
A  fter  this  period,  he  exhibited  great  bravery  in  the  com 
mand  of  the  American  fleet  on  Lake  Champlain. 

In  August,  1777,  he  relieved  Fort  Schuyler,  under  the 
command  of  Colonel  Gausevoort,  which  was  invested  by 
Col.  St.  Leger,  with  an  army  of  from  fifteen  to  eighteen 
hundred  men.  In  the  battle  near  Stillwater,  September 
the  nineteenth  he  conducted  himself  with  his  usual  in 
trepidity  :  being  engaged,  incessantly,  for  four  hours.  In 
the  action  of  October  the  7th,  after  the  British  had 
been  driven  into  their  lines,  Arnold  pressed  forward,  and, 
under  a  tremendous  fire,  assaulted  their  works  from 
right  to  left.  The  intrenchments  were  at  length  forced, 
and  with  a  few  men  he  actually  entered  the  works;  but 
his  horse  being  killed,  and  he  himself  badly  wounded 
in  the  leg,  he  found  it  necessary  to  withdraw,  and  as  it 
was  now  almost  dark,  to  desist  from  the  attack. 

Being  rendered  unfit  for  active  service,  in  consequence 
or  his  wound,  after  the  recovery  of  Philadelphia,  he 
was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  American  garri 
son.  VVhen  he  entered  the  city,  he  made  the  house  of 
Governor  Penn,  the  best  house  in  the  city,  his  head 
quarters.  This  he  furnished  in  a  very  costly  manner, 
and  lived  far  beyond  his  income.  He  had  wasted  the 
plunder,  which  he  had  seized  at  Montreal,  in  his  retreat 
from  Canada;  and  at  Philadelphia,  he  was  determined 
to  make  new  acquisitions.  He  laid  his  hands  on  every 
thing  in  the  city,  which  could  be  considered  as  the  prop 
erty  of  those  who  were  unfriendly  to  the  cause  of  his- 
country.  He  was  charged  with  oppression,  extortion, 
and  enormous  charges  upon  the  public,  in  his  accounts; 
and  with  applying  the  public  money  and  property  to  his 
own  private  use.  Such  was  his  conduct,  that  he  drew 
upon  himself  the  odium  of  the  inhabitants,  not  only  of 
the  city,  but  of  the  province  in  general.  He  was  engaged 


358  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

in  trading  speculations,  and  had  shares  in  several  priva 
teers;  but  was  unsuccessful. 

From  the  judgment  of  the  commissioners,  who  had 
been  appointed  to  inspect  his  accounts,  and  who  had 
rejected  above  half  the  amount  of  his  demands,  he  ap 
pealed  to  congress;  and  they  appointed  a  committee  of 
their  own  body  to  examine  and  settle  the  business.  The 
committee  confirmed  the  report  of  the  commissioners, 
and  thought  they  had  allowed  him  more  than  he  had 
any  right  to  expect  or  demand.  By  these  disappoint 
ments  he  became  irritated,  and  he  gave  full  scope  to  his 
resentment.  His  invectives  against  congress  were  not 
less  violent,  than  those  which  he  had  before  thrown  out 
against  the  commissioners.  He  was,  however,  soon  obli 
ged  to  abide  the  judgment  of  a  court-martial,  upon  the 
charges  exhibited  against  him  by  the  executive  of  Penn 
sylvania;  and  he  was  subjected  to  the  mortification  of 
receiving  a  reprimand  from  Washington.  His  trial  com 
menced  in  June  1778,  but  such  were  the  delays  occasion 
ed  by  the  movements  of  the  army,  that  it  was  not  con 
cluded  until  the  26th  of  January,  1779. — The  sentence 
of  a  reprimand  was  approved  by  congress,  and  was  soon 
afterward  carried  into  execution. 

Such  was  the  humiliation,  to  which  General  Arnold 
was  reduced,  in  consequence  of  yielding  to  the  tempta 
tions  of  pride  and  vanity,  and  indulging  himself  in  the 
pleasures  of  a  sumptuous  table  and  expensive  equipage. 

From  this  time,  probably,  his  proud  spirit  revolted 
from  the  cause  of  America.  He  turned  his  eyes  to  West 
Point  as  an  acquisition,  which  would  give  value  to  trea 
son,  while  its  loss  would  inflict  a  mortal  wound  on  his 
former  friends.  He  addressed  himself  to  the  delegation 
of  New-York,  in  which  state  his  reputation  was  pecu 
liarly  high ;  and  a  member  of  congress  from  this  state, 
recommended  him, to  Washington  for  the  service  which 
he  desired.  But  this  request  could  not  be  immediately 
complied  with.  The  same  application  to  the  comman 
der  in  chief  was  made  not  long  afterward  through  Gen. 
Schuyle.  Washington  observed,  that,  as  there  was  a 
prospect  of  an  active  campaign,  he  should  be  gratified 
with  the  aid  of  General  Arnold  in  the  field,  but  intima- 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  359 

ted  at  the  same  time,  that  he  should  receive  the  ap 
pointment  requested  if  it  should  be  more  pleasing  to  him. 
Arnold,  without  discovering  much  solicitude,  repaired 
to  camp  in  the  beginning  of  August,  and  renewed,  in  per 
son,  the  solicitations  which  had  been  before  indirectly 
made.  He  was  now  offered  the  command  of  the  left 
wing  of  the  army,  which  was  advancing  against  New- 
York,  but  he  declined  it  under  the  pretext,  that  in  con 
sequence  of  his  wounds,  he  was  unable  to  perform  the 
active  duties  of  the  field.  Without  a  suspicion  of  his 
patriotism,  he  was  invested  with  the  command  of  West 
Point.  Previously  to  his  soliciting  this  station,  he  had, 
in  a  letter  to  Col.  Robinson,  signified  his  change  of  prin 
ciples  and  his  wish  to  restore  himself  to  the  favour  of 
his  prince,  by  some  signal  proof  of  his  repentance.  This 
letter  opened  to  him  a  correspondence  with  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  the  object  of  which  was  to  concert  the  means 
of  putting  the  important  post,  which  he  commanded,  in^ 
to  the  possession  of  the  British  general. 

His  plan,  it  is  believed,  was  to  have  drawn  the  great 
er  part  of  his  army  without  the  works,  under  the  pretext 
of  fighting  the  enemy  in  the  defiles,  and  to  have  left  un 
guarded  a  designated  pass,  through  which  the  assailants 
might  securely  approach  and  surprise  the  fortress.  His 
troops  he  intended  to  place,  so  that  they  would  be  com 
pelled  to  surrender,  or  be  cut  in  pieces.  But  just  as  his 
scheme  was  ripe  for  execution,  the  wise  Disposer  of 
events,  who  so  often  and  so  remarkably  interposed  in  fa 
vour  of  the  American  cause,  blasted  his  designs. 

Major  Andre,  adjutant  general  of  the  British  army, 
was  selected  as  the  person,  to  whom  the  maturing  of 
Arnold's  treason,  and  the  arrangements  for  its  execution 
should  be  committed.  A  correspondence  was,  for  some 
time,  carried  on  between  them  under  a  mercantile  dis 
guise,  and  the  feigned  names  of  Gustavus  and  Ander 
son;  and  at  length,  to  facilitate  their  communications, 
the  Vulture  sloop  of  war  moved  up  the  North  River  and 
took  a  station  convenient  for  the  purpose,  but  not  so 
near  as  to  excite  suspicion.  An  interview  was  agreed 
on,  and  in  the  night  of  September  the  21st,  1780,  he  was 
taken  in  a  boat,  which  was  despatched  for  the  purpose. 


360  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

and  carried  to  the  beach  without  the  posts  of  both  ar 
mies,  under  a  pass  for  John  Anderson.  He  met  General 
Arnold  at  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Smith.  While  the  confer 
ence  was  yet  unfinished,  daylight  approached ;  and  to 
avoid  the  danger  of  discovery,  it  was  proposed,  that  he 
should  remain  concealed  till  the  succeeding  night.  He 
is  understood  to  have  refused  to  be  carried  within  the 
American  posts,  but  the  promise  made  him  by  Arnold, 
to  respect  this  objection,  was  not  observed.  He  was 
carried  within  them  contraty  to  his  wishes  and  against 
his  knowledge.  He  continued  with  Arnold  the  succeed 
ing  day,  and  when  on  the  following  night,  he  proposed  to 
return  to  the  Vulture,  the  boatmen  refused  to  carry  him, 
because  she  had,  during  the  day,  shifted  her  station,  in 
consequence  of  a  gun  having  been  moved  to  the  shore 
and  brought  to  bear  upon  her.  This  embarrassing  cir- 
curnstanre  reduced  him  to  the  necessity  of  endeavouring 
to  reach  New-York  by  land.  Yielding  with  reluctance 
to  the  urgent  representations  of  Arnold,  he  laid  aside  his 
regimentals,  which  he  had  hitherto  worn  under  a  sur- 
tout,  and  put  on  a  plain  suit  of  clothes ;  and  receiving  a 
pass  from  the  American  general  authorizing  him,  under 
the  feigned  name  of  John  Anderson,  to  proceed  on  the 
public  service,  to  the  White  Plains,  or  lower  if  he  thought 
proper,  he  set  out  on  his  return.  He  had  passed  all  the 
guards  and  posts  on  the  road  without  suspicion,  and  was 
proceeding  to  New  York,  in  perfect  security,  when,  on 
the  23d  of  September,  one  of  three  militia  men,  who 
were  employed  with  others  in  scouting  parties  between 
the  lines  of  the  two  armies,  springing  suddenly. from  his 
covert  into  the  road,  seized  the  reins  of  his  bridle  and 
stopped  his  horse.  Instead  of  producing  his  pass,  An 
dre,  with  a  want  of  self-possession,  which  can  be  attrib 
uted  only  to  a  kind  Providence,  asked  the  man  hastily, 
where  he  belonged ;  and  being  answered,  '  to  below,'  re 
plied  immediately,  4and  so  do  I.'  He  then  decla-ed 
himself  to  be  a  British  officer,  on  urgent  business,  and 
begged  that  he  might  not  be  detained.  The  other  two 
militia-men  coming  up  at  this  moment,  he  discovered  his 
mistake;  but  it  was  too  late  to  repair  it.  He  offered  a 
purse  of  gold  and  a  valuable  watch,  to  which  he  added 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  361 

ihe  most  tempting  promises  of  ample  reward  and  per 
manent  provision  from  the  government,  if  they  would 
permit  him  to  escape,  but  his  offers  were  rejected 
without  hesitation. 

The  militia-men,  whose  names  were  JoHn  Paulding, 
Davitl  Williams,  and  Isaac  Vanwert,  proceeded  to 
search  him.  They  found  concealed  in  his  boots,  exact 
returns,  in  Arnold's  handwriting,  of  the  state  of  the 
forces,  ordnance,  and  defences  at  West  Point  and  its 
dependencies;  critical  remarks  on  the  works,  and  an 
estimate  of  the  men  ordinarily  employed  in  them,  with 
other  interesting  papers.  Ander  was  carried  before 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Jameson,  the  officer  commanding 
the  scouting  parties  on  the  lines,  and,  regardless  of  him 
self,  and  only  anxious  for  the  safety  of  Arnold,  he  still 
maintained  the  character  which  he  had  assumed,  and 
requested  Jameson  to  inform  his  commanding  officer 
that  Anderson  was  taken.  An  express  was  according 
ly  despatched,  and  the  traitor,  thus  becoming  acquainted 
with  his  danger,  escaped. 

Major  Andre,  after  his  detection,  was  permitted  to 
send  a  message  to  Arnold,  to  give  him  notice  of  his 
danger,  and  the  traitor  found  opportunity  to  escape  on 
board  the  Vulture,  on  the  25th  of  September,  1780,  a 
few  hours  before  the  return  of  Washington,  who  had 
been  absent  on  a  journey  to  Hartford,  Connecticut.  It 
is  supposed,  however,  that  he  would  not  have  escaped, 
had  not  an  express  to  the  Commander-in-chief,  with  an 
account  of  the  capture  of  Andre,  missed  him  by  taking 
a  different  road  from  the  one  which  he  travelled.1'* 

Arnold,  on  the  very  day  of  his  escape,  wrote  the  fol 
lowing  letter  to  Washington: 

"Onboard  the  Vulture, 

Sept.  25, 1780. 

"SiR — The  heart  which  is  conscious  of  its  own  recti 
tude  cannot  attempt  to  palliate  a  step  which  the  world 
may  censure  as  wrong;  I  have  ever  acted  from  a  prin- 

Mm.  Biog.  Dictionary. 

X2 


362  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

ciple  of  love  to  my  country,  since  the  commencement  of 
the  present  unhappy  contest  between  Great  Britain  and 
the  colonies;  the  same  principle  of  love  to  my  country 
actuates  my  present  conduct,  however  ii  may  appeal- 
inconsistent  to  the  wold,  who  very  seldom  judge  right  of 
any  man's  actions. 

"I  have  no  favour  to  ask  for  myself.  I  have  too  often 
experienced  the  ingratitude  of  my  country  to  attempt  it; 
but  from  the  known  humanity  of  your  Excellency,  I  am 
induced  to  ask  your  protection  for  Mrs.  Arnold,  from 
every  insult  and  injury  that  the  mistaken  vengeance  of 
my  country  may  expose  her  to.  It  ought  to  fall  only 
on  me,  she  is  as  good  and  as  innocent  as  an  angel,  and 
is  incapable  of  doing  wrong.  I  beg  she  may  be  permit 
ted  to  return  to  her  friends  in  Philadelphia,  or  to  come 
to  me,  as  she  may  choose;  from  your  Excellency  I  have 
no  fears  on  her  account,  but  she  may  suffer  from  the  mis 
taken  fury  of  the  country. 

>6I  have  to  request  that  the  enclosed  letter  may  be 
delievered  to  Mrs,  Arnold,  and  she  permitted  to  write 
to  me. 

"I  have  also  to  ask  that  my  clothes  and  baggage, 
which  are  of  little  consequence,  may  be  sent  to  me;  if 
required,  their  value  shall  be  paid  in  money. 

"1  have  the,  honour  to  be,  &c. 

B.  ARNOLD. 
"His  Excellency  Gen.  Washington. 

"N.  B,  In  justice  to  the  gentlemen  of  my  family,  Col, 
V"arrick,  and  Major  Franks,  I  think  myself  in  honour 
bound  to  declare,  that  they,  as  well  as  Joshua  Smith  Esq, 
(who  I  know  are  suspected)  are  totally  ignorant  of  any 
transactions  of  mine,  that  they  had  reason  to  believe 
were  injurious  to  the  public." 

Mrs.  Arnold  was  conveyed  to  her  husband  at  New 
York,  and  his  clothes  and  baggage,  for  which  he  had 
written,  were  transmitted  to  him. 

14  The  following  is  a  concise  description  of  the  figures 
exhibited  and  paraded  through   the  streets  of  the  city  of 
Philadelphia,  two  or  three  days  after  the  affair. 

"A  stage  raised  on  the  body  of  a  cart,  on  which  was 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD  363 

an  effigy  of  General  Arnold  sitting;  this  was  dressed  in 
regimentals,  had  two  faces,  emblematical  of  his  traitor 
ous  conduct,  a  mask  in  his  left  hand,  and  a  letter  in  his 
right  from  Belzehub,  telling  him  that  he  had  done  all  the 
mischief  he  could  do,  and  now  he  must  hang  himself. 

At  the  back  of  the  General  was  a  figure  of  the  devil, 
dressed  in  black  robes,  shaking  a  purse  of  money  at  the 
General's  left  ear,  and  in  his  right  hand  a  pitchfork, 
ready  to  drive  him  into  hell,  as  the  reward  due  for  the 
many  crimes  which  his  thirst  of  gold  had  made  him 
commit. 

In  the  front  of  the  stage,  and  before  General  Arnold, 
was  placed  a  large  lanthorn  of  transparent  paper,  with 
the  consequences  of  his  crimes  thus  delineated,  2,  e.  on 
one  part  General  Arnold  on  his  knees  before  the  devil, 
who  is  pulling  him  into  the  flames — a  label  from  the 
General's  mouth  with  these  words:  4iMy  dear  sir,  I  have 
served  you  faithfully;'  to  which  the  devil  replies,  'And 
I'll  reward  you.'  On  another  side,  two  figures  hanging, 
inscribed,  ;The  Traitor's  Reward,'  and  wrote  under 
neath,  'The  Adjutant  General  of  the  British  army,  and 
Jeo  Smith;  the  first  hanged  as  a  spy,  and  the  other  as 
a  traitor  to  his  country.'  And  on  the  front  of  the  lau- 
thorn  was  wrote  the  following: 

"Major  General  Benedict  Arnold,  late  commander  of  the 
fort  West  Point.  The  crime  of  this  man  is  high  treason. 

He  has  deserted  the  important  post,  West  Point,  on 
Hudson's  River,  committed  to  his  charge  by  his  Excel 
lency  the  Commander  in  chief,  and  is  gpne  off  to  the 
enemy  at  New  York. 

His  design  to  have  given  up  this  fortress  to  our  ene 
mies  has  been  discovered  by  the  goodness  of  the  Om 
niscient  Creator,  who  has  not  only  prevented  him  from 
carrying  it  into  execution,  but  has  thrown  into  our 
hands  Jlndre,  the  Adjutant  General  of  their  army,  who 
was  detected  in  the  infamous  character  of  a  spy. 

The  treachery  of  the  ungrateful  General  is  held  up 
to  public  view  for  the  exposition  of  infamy;  and  to  pro 
claim  with  joyful  acclamation,  another  instance  of  the 
interposition  of  bounteous  Providence. 


1364  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

The  effigy  of  this  ingrate  is  therefore  hanged,  (for 
want  of  his  body,)  as  a  traitor  to  his  native  country,  and 
a  betrayer  of  the  laws  of  honour." 

The  procession  began  about  four  o'clock,  in  the  follow 
ing  order: 

Several  gentlemen  mounted  on  horseback. 

A  line  of  continental  officers. 

Sundry  gentlemen  in  a  line. 

A  guard  of  the  city  infantry. 

Just  before  the  cart,  drums  and  fifes  playing  the 

Rogue's  March. 
Guards  on  each  side. 

The  procession  was  attended  with  a  numerous  con 
course  of  people,  who,  after  expressing  their  abhorrence 
of  the  treason  and  the  traitor,  commited  him  to  the 
flames,  and  left  both  the  effigy  and  the  original  to  sink 
into  ashes  and  oblivion."* 

"  During  the  exertions  which  were  made  to  rescue 
Andre  from  the  destruction  which  threatened  him,  Ar 
nold  had  the  hardihood  to  interpose.  He  appealed  to 
the  humanity  of  the  Commander  in  chief,  and  then 
sought  to  intimidate  him,  by  stating  the  situation  of  many 
of  the  principal  characters  of  South  Carolina,  who  had 
forfeited  their  lives,  but  had  hitherto  been  spared 
through  the  clemency  of  the  British  General.  This 
clemency,  he  said,  could  no  longer,  in  justice,  be  extend 
ed  to  them,  should  Major  Andre  suffer. 

Arnold  was  made  a  brigadier  general  in  the  British 
service;  which  rank  he  preserved  thoughout  the  war. 
Yet  he  must  have  been  held  in  contempt  and  detestation 
by  the  generous  and  honourable.  It  was  impossible  for 
men  of  this  description,  even  when  acting  with  him,  to 
forget  that  he  was  a  traitor,  first  the  slave  of  his  rage, 
then  purchased  with  goid,  and  finally  secured  by  the 
blood  of  one  of  the  most  accomplished  officers  in  the 
-British  army.  One  would  suppose  that  his  mind  could 
not  have  been  much  at  ease;  but  he  had  proceeded  so 

'"Nile's  Revolution, 


BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  365 

far  in  vice,  that  perhaps  his  reflections  gave  him  but 
little  trouble.  'I  am  mistaken,'  says  Washington,  in  a 
private  letter,  'if,  at  this  time,  Arnold  is  undergoing  the 
torments  of  a  mental  hell.  He  wants  feeling.  Front 
some  traits  of  his  character,  which  have  lately  come  to 
my  knowledge,  he  seems  to  have  been  so  hacknied  in 
crime,  so  lost  to  all  sense  of  honour  and  shame,  that 
while  his  faculties  still  enable  him  to  continue  his  sordid 
pursuits,  there  will  be  no  time  for  remorse.' 

Arnold  found  it  necessary  to  make  some  exertions  to 
secure  the  attachment  of  his  new  friends.  With  the 
hope  of  alluring  many  of  the  discontented  to  his  stand 
ard,  he  published  an  address  to  the  inhabitants  of 
America,  in  which  he  endeavoured  to  justify  his  con 
duct.  He  had  encountered  the  dangers  of  the  field,  he 
said,  from  apprehension  that  the  rights  of  his  country 
were  in  danger.  He  had  acquiesced  in  the  declaration 
of  independence,  though  bethought  it  precipitate.  But 
the  rejection  of  the  overtures,  made  by  Great  Britain  in 
1778,  and  the  French  alliance,  had  opened  his  eyes  to 
the  ambitious  views  of  those,  who  would  sacrifice  the 
happiness  of  their  country  to  their  own  aggrandizement, 
and  had  made  him  a  confirmed  royalist.  He  artfully 
mingled  assertions,  that  the  principal  members  of  con 
gress  held  the  people  in  sovereign  contempt. 

This  was  followed  in  about  a  fortnight  by  a  procla 
mation,  addressed  '  to  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
continental  army,  who  have  the  real  interests  of  their 
country  at  heart,  and  who  are  determined  to  be  no  longer 
the  tools  and  dupes  of  congress  or  of  France.'  To 
induce  the  American  officers  and  soldiers  to  desert  the 
cause  which  they  had  embraced,  he  represented  that 
the  corps  of  cavalry  and  infantry,  which  he  was  author 
ized  to  raise,  would  be  upon  the  same  footing  with  the 
other  troops  in  the  British  service;  that  he  should  with 
pleasure  advance  those  whose  valour  he  had  witnessed ; 
and  that  the  private  men  who  joined  him  should  receive 
a  bounty  of  three  guineas  each,  besides  payment,  at  the 
full  value,  for  horses,  arms,  and  accoutrements.  His  ob 
ject  was  the  peace,  liberty,  and  safety  of  America.  'You 
are  promised  liberty,'  he  exclaims,  'but  is  there  an  indi- 


366  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

vidual  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  saving  your  oppressors? 
Who  among  you  dare  to  speak  or  write  what  he  thinks 
against  the  tyranny  which  has  robbed  you  of  your  prop 
erty,  imprisons  your  persons,  drags  you  to  the  field  of 
battle,  and  is  daily  deluging  your  country  with  blood?' 
'What,'  he  exclaims  again,  4is  America  now  but  a  land 
of  widows,  orphans,  and  beggers?  As  to  you,  who  have 
been  soldiers  in  the  continental  army,  can  you  at  this  day 
want  evidence,  that  the  funds  of  your  country  are  ex 
hausted,  or  that  the  managers  have  applied  them  to 
their  private  uses?  In  either  case  you  surely  can  no 
longer  continue  in  their  service  with  honour  or  advan 
tage.  Yet  you  have  hitherto  been  their  supporters  in 
that  cruelty,  which,  with  equal  indifference  to  yours,  as 
well  as  to  the  labour  and  blood  of  others,  is  devouring  a 
country,  that  from  the  moment  you  quit  their  colours, 
will  be  redeemed  from  their  tyranny.' 

These  proclamations  did  not  produce  the  effect  de 
signed,  and  in  all  the  hardships,  sufferings,  and  irritations 
Of  the  war,  Arnold  remains  the  solitary  instance  of  an 
American  officer,  who  abandoned  the  side  first  embra 
ced  in  the  contest,  and  turned  his  sword  upon  his  former 
companions  in  arms. 

He  was  soon  despatched  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  to 
make  a  diversion  in  Virginia.  With  about  seventeen 
hundred  men  he  arrived  in  the  Chesepeake,  in  January, 
1781,  and  being  supported  by  such  a  naval  force  as  was 
suited  to  the  nature  of  the  service,  he  committed  exten 
sive  ravages  on  the  rivers,  and  along  the  unprotected 
coasts.  It  is  said  that,  while  on  this  expedition,  Arnold 
inquired  of  an  American  captain  whom  he  had  taken 
prisoner,  what  the  Americans  would  do  with  him  if  he 
should  fall  into  their  hands.  The  captain  at  first  de 
clined  giving  him  an  answer,  but  upon  being  repeatedly 
urged  to  it,  he  said,  'Why,  sir,  if  I  must  answer  your 
question,  you  must  excuse  my  telling  you  the  plain  truth : 
if  my  countrymen  should  catch  you,  I  believe  they  would 
first  cut  off  that  lame  leg,  which  was  wounded  in  the 
cause  of  freedom  and  virtue,  and  bury  it  with  the  hon 
ours  of  war,  and  afterward  hang  the  remainder  of  your 
body  in  gibbets.'  The  reader  will  recollect  that  the 


BENEDICT    ARNTOLD. 


367 


captain  alluded  to  the  wound  Arnold  received  in  one  of 
his  legs,  at  the  attack  upon  Quebec,  in  1776." 

The  return  of  Gen.  Arnold  to  New  York  from  Virgin- 
»ia,  did  not  fix  him  in  a  state  of  inactivity.  He  was 
sent  on  an  enterprise  against  New  London,  with  a  suffi 
cient  land  and  Marine  force. — The  embarkation  having 
passed  over  from  Long  Island  shore  in  the  night,  the 
troops  were  landed  in  two  detachments  on  each  side  of 
the  harbour,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  6th  of 
September;  that  on  the  Groton  side  being  commanded 
by  Lieutenant  Colonel  Eyre,  and  that  on  New  London 
side  by  the  general,  who  met  no  great  trouble.  Fort 
Trumbull  and  the  redoubt,  which  were  intended  to  cov 
er  the  harbour  and  town,  not  being  tenable,  were  evacu 
ated  as  he  approached,  and  the  few  men  in  them  cross 
ed  the  river  to  fort  Griswold,  on  Groton  Hill.  Arnold 
proceeded  to  the  town  without  being  otherwise  opposed 
than  by  the  scattered  fire  of  small  parties  that  had  has 
tily  collected.  Orders  were  sent  by  the  general  to  Eyre 
Fort  Griswold,  that  so  the  possession  of  it  might  prevent 
the  escaping  of  the  American  shipping.  The  militia,  to 
the  amount  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven,  collected  for 
its  defence,  but  so  hastily  as  not  to  be  fully  furnished  with 
fire  arms  and  other  weapons.  As  the  assailants  ap 
proached,  a  firing  commenced,  and  the  flag-staff  was 
soon  shot  down,  from  whence  the  neighbouring  specta 
tors  inferred  that  the  place  had  surrendered,  till  the  con 
tinuance  of  the  firing  convinced  them  to  the  contrary. — 
The  garrison  defended  themselves  with  the  greatest  res 
olution  and  bravery ;  Eyre  was  wounded  near  the  works, 
and  Major  Montgomery  was  killed  immediately  after,  so 
that  the  command  devolved  on  Major  Broomfield.  The 
British  at  one  time  staggered ;  but  the  fort  being  out  of 
repair,  could  not  be  maintained  by  a  handful  of  men 
against  so  superior  a  number  as  that  which  assaulted 
it.  After  an  action  of  about  forty  minutes,  the  resolu 
tion  of  the  royal  troops  carried  the  place  by  the  point  of 
the  bayonet.  The  Americans  had  not  more  than  half 
a  dozen  killed  before  the  enemy  entered  the  fort,  when 
a  severe  execution  took  place,  though  resistance  ceased. 
The  British  officer  inquired,  on  his  entering  the  fort,  who 


368  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Commanded?  Col  Leynard  answered — 4I  did,  sir  but 
you  do  now;  and  presented  him  his  sword.  The  colo 
nel  was  immediately  run  through  and  killed.  The  slain 
were  seventy-three:  the  wounded  between  thirty  and 
forty,  and  about  forty  were  carried  off  prisoners.  Soon 
after  reducing  the  fort,  the  soldiers  loaded  a  wagon  with 
die  wounded,  as  said,  by  order  of  their  officers,  and  set 
the  wagons  off  from  the  top  of  the  hill,  which  is  long  and 
very  steep:  the  wagon  went  a  considerable  distance 
with  great  force,  till  it  was  suddenly  stopped,  by  an  ap 
ple  tree,  which  gave  the  faint  and  bleeding  men  so  ter 
rible  a  shock  that  part  of  them  died  instantly.  About 
fifteen  vessels,  with  the  effects  of  the  inhabitants  retreat 
ed  up  the  river,  notwithstanding  the  reduction  of  the 
fort,  and  four  others  remained  in  the  harbour  unhurt;  a 
number  were  burnt  by  the  fire's  communicating  from  the 
stores  when  in  flames.  Sixty  dwelling  houses  and  eigh 
ty  four  stores  were  burned,  including  those  on  both  sides 
of  the  harbour  and  in  New  London.  The  burning  of  the 
town  was  intentional  and  not  accidental.  The  loss  that 
the  Americans  sustained  in  this  destruction  was  very 
great;  for  there  were  large  quantities  of  naval  stores, 
of  European  goods,  of  East  and  West  India  commodi 
ties,  and  of  provisions  in  the  several  stores.  The  Brit 
ish  had  two  commissioned  officers  and  forty-six  privates 
killed;  eight  officers  (some  of  whom  are  since  dead) 
with  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  non-commissioned  and 
privates  wounded."* 

44  From  the  conclusion  of  the  war  until  his  death,  Gen. 
Arnold  resided  chiefly  in  England.  He  died  in  Glou 
cester  place,  London,  June  14,  1801.  His  character 
presents  little  to  be  commended. — His  daring  courage 
may  excite  admiration;  but  it  was  a  courage  without 
reflection  and  without  principle.  He  fought  bravely  for 
his  country;  and  he  bled  in  her  cause;  but  his  country 
owed  him  no  returns  of  gratitude,  for  his  subsequent  con 
duct  proved,  that  he  had  no  honest  regard  to  her  inter 
ests,  but  was  governed  by  selfish  considerations.  His 
progress  from  self-indulgence  to  treason  was  easy  and 

*  Nile's  Rerolution. 


feENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

rapid.  He  was  vain  and  luxurious,  and  to  gratify  his 
giddy  desires,  he  must  resort  to  meanness,  dishonesty, 
and  extortion.  These  vices  brought  with  them  disgrace ; 
and  the  contempt  into  which  he  fell,  awakened  a  spirit 
of  revenge,  and  left  him  to  the  unrestrained  influence  of 
his  cupidity  and  passion.  Thus  from  the  high  fame  to 
which  his  bravery  had  elevated  him,  he  descended  into 
infamy.  Thus  too,  he  furnished  new  evidence  of  the 
infatuation  of 'the  human  mind,  in  attaching  such  value 
to  the  reputation  of  a  soldier,  which  may  be  obtained 
while  the  heart  is  unsound,  and  every  moral  sentiment  is 
entirely  depraved."* 

*  Amer.  Biog.  Dictionary. 

Y2 


BIOGRAPHY 

OF 

REVOLUTIONARY  NAVAL,  OFFICERS, 


JOHN  PAUL  JONES, 

Commodore  in  the  American  Navy. 

"THE  following  interesting  narrative  is  translated  from 
a  French  manuscript,  written  by  himself.  While  we 
condemn  the  author  for  his  egotism,  we  must  make  great 
allowances,  on  that  account,  for  the  splendid  success 
that  attended  his  enterprises,  and  estimate  his  vanity  by 
the  reasons  he  had  to  be  vain.  Few  even,  perhaps, 
circumstanced  as  Paul  Jones  was,  would  have  praised 
themselves  less  than  he  has  done  in  this  sketch;  which 
possesses  the  singular  merit  of  being  substantially  cor 
rect  in  all  its  parts,  so  far  as  we  are  informed  of  the 
matter." — Niles's  Register. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  American  war  (during 
the  year  1775)  I  was  employed  to  fit  out  the  little 
squadron,  which  the  congress  had  placed  under  Com 
modore  Hopkins,  who  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  all  the  armed  vessels  appertaining  to  America;  and 
I  hoisted,  with  my  own  hands,  the  American  flag,  on 
board  the  Alfred,  which  was  then  displayed  for  the  first 
time. 

I  at  the  same  time  acquainted  Mr.  Hewes,  a  member 
of  congress,  and  my  particular  friend,  with  a  project  for 
seizing  on  the  Island  of  St.  Helena,  by  means  of  our 
little  squadron,  which  would  have  infallibly  rendered  us 
masters  of  part  of  the  homeward-bound  East  India 
fleet;  and  as  the  congress,  at  that  time,  proposed  to 
appropriate  two  thirds  of  the  prizes  to  itself,  they 
would  have  thus  been  furnished  with  the  means  of  car 
rying  on  the  war  during  several  years;  but  an  event  of 
a  more  pressing  nature  prevented  this  scheme  from  being 
carried  into  execution. 


JOHN   PAUL   JONES.  371 

The  cruelties  and  vexations  at  that  time  exercised 
by  Dunmore,  in  Virginia,  determined  the  congress  to 
detach  the  squadron  against  him;  but  Mr.  Hopkins  dis 
played  neither  zeal  nor  talents  upon  this  occasion,  and 
lost  so  much  time  that  his  squadron  was  frozen  in  the 
Delaware. 

After  a  delay  of  two  months,  the  squadron  was  at 
length  disengaged,  and  set  sail  for  New  Providence,  the 
principal  of  the  Bahama  Islands.  There  we  found  a 
large  quantity  of  artillery,  mortars,  and  other  imple 
ments  of  warfare,  of  which  we  stood  greatly  in  want  in 
America ;  and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  render  myself 
useful  to  the  Commodore,  who  was  but  little  acquainted 
with  military  operations.  It  was  to  me  he  was  indebt 
ed  for  the  plan  adopted  by  him  when  the  squadron  came 
in  sight  of  New  Providence,  and  I  also  undertook  to 
moor  the  squadron  in  a  proper  birth  to  execute  our  en 
terprise. 

On  our  return  from  New  Providence  we  took  two 
armed  vessels,  one  of  which  was  loaded  with  bombs, 
and  fell  in,  near  Rhode  Island,  with  an  English  man  of 
war,  called  the  Glasgow,  carrying  twenty-four  guns; 
but,  notwithstanding  our  superiority,  both  in  point  of 
force  and  sailing,  the  Commander  in  chief  suffered  her 
to  escape,  after  having  lost  many  men  killed  and  wound 
ed,  both  on  board  the  Alfred  and  the  Cabot. 

The  squadron  now  entered  the  port  of  New-London,, 
in  Connecticut;  and  Hopkins,  on  receiving  intelligence 
that  the  English  frigates  had  been  driven  from  Newport, 
took  advantage  of  the  darkness  of  the  nights  to  repair 
to  Rhode  Island. 

A  council  of  war  having  dismissed  the  captain  of  the 
Providence,  one  of  the  ships  of  the  squadron,  the  Com 
modore  gave  me  orders  in  writing  to  take  the  command 
of  her,  and  to  escort  some  troops  that  were  proceeding 
from  Rhode  Island  to  New  York,  with  a  view  of  serving 
under  General  Washington.  After  this,  I  received  in 
structions  to  escort  a  convoy  of  artillery  from  Rhode 
Island  to  New  York,  for  the  defence  of  which  it  was 
destined.  On  this  occasion,  I  had  two  different  engage 
ments  with  the  Cerberus  frigate;  the  first  for  the  protec- 


372  JOHN  PAUL  JONES. 

tion  of  the  vessels  under  my  command,  and  the  second 
for  the  preservation  of  a  vessel  from  St.  Domingo,  laden 
with  naval  stores  for  the  congress.  In  the  course  of  my 
service  between  Boston  and  New-York,  I  had  also  ma 
ny  actions  with  ships  of  war  under  the  command  of 
Lord  Howe ;  but  on  these,  as  on  former  occasions,  I  was 
enabled  to  preserve  my  convoy,  and  I  at  length  arrived 
safe  in  the  Delaware,  August  1, 1776. 

On  the  8th  of  the  same  month  the  president  of  the 
congress,  presented  me  in  person,  with  the  commission 
of  captain  in  the  marine  of  the  United  States;  this  was 
the  first  granted  by  congress  since  the  declaration  of 
independence,  which  took  place  on  the  4th  of  July  of 
that  same  year. 

Orders  had  been  given  for  the  construction  of  thirteen 
frigates;  but,  as  none  of  them  was  yet  ready,  I  proceed 
ed  to  sea  alone,  on  board  the  Providence,  which  was  a 
vessel  of  but  small  force,  as  she  carried  no  more  than 
seventy  men,  and  twelre  small  cannon.  When  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Bermudas,  we  fell  in  with  the  Sole- 
bay,  and  her  convoy,  from  Charleston ;  she  was  a  thirty^- 
two  gun  frigate,  and  formed  part  of  the  squadron  under 
Admiral  Parker.  I  was  of  course  desirous  to  avoid  an 
engagement  with  such  superior  force ;  but  as  my  officers 
and  men  insisted  that  it  was  the  Jamaica  fleet,  as  it 
was  necessary  to  command  by  means  of  persuasion  at  this 
epoch  of  the  war,  the  result  was  a  serious  engagement 
during  six  hours,  which,  toward  the  close,  was  carried 
on  within  pistol  shot.  A  desperate  manoeuvre  was  the 
sole  resource  left  me;  I  attempted  this,  it  succeeded, 
and  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  disengage  myself. 

A  short  time  after  this,  I  took  several  prizes,  nnd  then 
sailed  towards  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  on  purpose  to 
destroy  the  whale  and  cod  fisheries  in  that  neighbour 
hood.  When  near  Sable  island,  we  fell  in  with  the 
Milford  frigate,  carrying  thirty-two  guns,  with  which  it 
was  impossible  to  avoid  an  engagement.  A  cannonade 
accordingly  took  place,  from  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning 
until  sunset;  but  the  engagement  was  neither  so  close 
nor  so  hot  as  that  with  the  Solebay,  and  I  at  length  es 
caped  by  passing  through  the  flats,  and  entered  a  little 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  373 

harbour  next  day,  where  I  destroyed  the  fishery  and 
vessels. 

After  this  I  set  sail  for  He  Madame,  where  I  made 
two  descents,  at  the  same  time  destroying  the  fisheries, 
and  burning  all  the  vessels  I  could  not  carry  away  with 
me.  Having  accomplished  this,  I  returned  to  Rhode- 
Island,  after  an  absence  of  six  weeks  and  five  days  from 
the  Delaware;  during  this  interval  I  had  taken  six 
teen  prizes,  without  including  those  destroyed. 

The  commander  in  chief,  wrho  had  remained  all  this 
time  in  harbour,  now  adopted  a  plan  proposed  by  me, 
and  which  consisted, 

1.  In  the   destruction  of  the  enemy's  fisheries  at   He 
Royale ;  and 

2.  Of  restoring   to  liberty  more  than   three   hundred 
American  prisoners  detained  there  in  the  coal  mines. — 
Three  vessels  were  destined  for  this  service,  the  Alfred,, 
the  Hampden,  and  the  Providence;   but  the   Hampden 
having  received  considerable  damage  in  consequence  of 
running  on  a  rock,  could  not  accompany  me.     I,  howev 
er,  embarked  on  board  the  Alfred,  and  taking  the  Prov 
idence  by  way  of  consort,  I  set  sail,  and  on  the   2d  of 
November,  1776,  made  a  prize  of  a  vessel   from  Liver 
pool,  and  soon  after  the  Mellish,  a   large  armed  vessel, 
having  two  British  naval  officers  on  board,  and  a  cap 
tain  belonging  to  the   land  service,  with  a  company  of 
soldiers.     This  ship  was  carrying  ten  thousand  complete 
sets  of  uniform  to   Canada,  for  the  army  posted  there 
under  the  orders  of  Generals  Carleton  and  Burgoyne. 

The  Providence  having  now  left  the  Alfred  during  the 
night,  without  the  least  pretext  whatever,  I  remained 
alone,  and  that  too  during  the  stormy  season,  on  the 
enemy's  coast;  but  notwithstanding  this,  and  that  I  was 
also  greatly  embarrassed  with  my  prisoners,  I  resolved 
not  to  renounce  my  project.  I  accordingly  effected  a 
descent,  destroyed  a  transport  of  great  value,  and  alsd 
burned  the  magazines  and  buildings^destined  for  the 
whale  and  cod  fishery. 

In  addition  to  this,  I  took  three  transports,  and  a  ves 
sel  laden  with  ling  and  furs,  near  He  Royale;  these  pri 
zes  were  escorted  by  the  Flora  frigate,  which  happened 


374  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

to  be  at  a  small  distance,  but  which  was  concealed 
from  us  by  a  fog.  Having  taken  a  privateer  from  Liv 
erpool,  mounting  sixteen  guns,  in  the  course  of  next  day, 
I  instantly  returned  with  my  prizes,  toward  the  United 
States;  but  when  in  the  latitude  of  Boston,  fell  in  with 
the  Mil  ford  frigate,  which  I  unwillingly  engaged.  To 
ward  night,  however,  I  placed  the  Alfred  between  the 
enemy  aiid  my  prizes,  and  having  given  the  necessary 
instructions  to  the  latter,  to  make  for  the  nearest  port,  I 
changed  my  course,  set  up  lights,  and  by  this  stratagem 
saved  the  vessels  I  had  captured,  as  the  frigate  continu 
ed  in  chase  of  me.  Next  day  I  myself  was  fortunate 
enough  to  escape,  after  a  very  serious  action,  which  was 
not  terminated  until  dark,  and  even  then  inconsequence 
of  a  hard  gale  of  wind. 

Having  returned  to  Boston,  December  10,  1776,  the 
intelligence  of  the  uniforms  taken  on  board  the  Mellish, 
reanimated  the  courage  of  the  army  under  Gen.  Wash 
ington,  which  at  that  period  happened  to  be  almost  des 
titute  of  clothing.  Let  me  add  also,  that  this  unexpected 
succour  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  success  of  the  af 
fair  at  Trenton  against  the  Hessians,  which  took  place 
immediately  after  my  arrival. 

I  now  paid  out  of  my  own  purse  the  wages  due  to  the 
crews  of  the  Alfred  and  the  Providence,  and  lent  the 
rest  of  my  money  to  the  congress.  That  assembly  trans 
mitted  me  orders  from  Philadelphia,  on  the  5th  of  Feb 
ruary,  to  undertake  a  secret  expedition  of  great  impor 
tance,  the  design  of^yhich  was,  to  Iny  the  Island  of  St. 
Christopher,  and  the  north  side  of  Jamaica,  under  con 
tribution;  after  which  we  were  to  attack  Pensacola. 
This  project  was  first,  conceived  by  me,  and  then  com 
municated  to  Mr.  Morris,  afterward  minister  of  finance: 
but  such  was  the  jealousy  of  Hopkins,  the  commander 
in  chief,  that  it  was  never  carried  into  execution.  He 
was,  however,  soon  after  suspended,  and  then  dismissed 
from  the  service. 

The  season  being  now  too  far  advanced  for  the  exe 
cution  of  the  scheme  in  the  West  Indies,  myself  and 
crew  received  orders  to  remove  on  board  the  Amphytrite, 
a  French  ressel,  destined  to  sail  from  Portsmouth,  New- 


JOHN    PAUL   JONES.  375 

Hampshire,  to  France,  whence  we  were  to  pass  into 
Holland,  and  take  possession  of  the  Indienne,  a  large 
frigate,  constructing  there  for  the  congress;  some  diffi 
culties  however  ensued,  and  I  was  ordered  to  prepare 
the  Ranger,  a  vessel  mounting  eighteen  guns. 

When  Gen.  Burgoyne  and  his  army  were  obliged  to 
surrender  at  Saratoga,  it  was  I  who  was  the  first  obliged 
to  carry  this  interesting  intelligence  to  Nantes,  whither  I 
arrived  on  the  2d  of  December,  1777.  In  the  course  of 
my  voyage,  I  took  two  prizes,  forming  a  part  of  a  convoy 
from  the  Mediterranean,  under  the  protection  of  the  In 
vincible,  a  seventy-four  gun  ship,  under  the  guns  of  which 
one  of  them  was  taken. 

In  the  month  of  January,  1778,1  repaired  to  Paris,  to 
make  the  necessary  arrangements  with  the  American 
ministers,  relative  to  the  equipment  of  the  Indienne ;  but, 
as  the  recent  intelligence  relative  to  the  capture  of  Bur 
goyne  had  determined  the  court  of  France  to  recognise 
the  independence  of  America  by  means  of  a  treaty  of 
alliance,  and  as  the  English  ambassador  at  the  Hague, 
in  consequence  of  obtaining  possession  of  the  papers  of 
an  American  agent,  found  that  the  Indienne  was  the 
property  of  congress,  I  acquiesced  in  the  opinion  of  the 
American  ministers;  and  it  was  determined  to  cede  the 
property  to  his  most  Christian  majesty,  this  being  the 
most  likely  method  of  preserving  the  property. 

I  then  returned  on  board  the  Ranger,  and  as  I  had  re 
ceived  information  from  America,  relative  to  the  force 
and  stations  of  the  English  fleet  in  that  quarter,  I  imme 
diately  transmitted  a  letter  to  Mr.  Deane,  one  of  the 
American  ministers  at  Paris,  communicating  a  plan  of 
an  expedition  with  a  squadron  of  ten  sail  of  the  line,  a 
few  frigates,  and  a  small  body  of  land  forces,  with  a  view 
of  completely  destroying  the  enemy's  naval  power  ac 
ting  against  the  United  States.  This  scheme  was  not 
adopted  until  it  was  too  late,  and  then  it  of  course  be 
came  impracticable. 

In  the  mean  time  I  took  several  American  vessels  un 
der  my  convoy,  from  Nantes,  to  the  bay  of  Quiberon, 
where  M.  La  Motte  Piquet  was  lying  at  anchor,  with 
six  sail  of  the  line,  a  few  frigates,  and  several  merchant- 


376  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

men,  which  he  was  to  take  under  his  protection  to  the 
westward  of  Cape  Finisterre.  M.  de  la  Fayette  was  on 
board  this  fleet,  which  was  provided  with  clothing,  am 
munition,  and  military  stores  for  America. 

I  reached  the  bay,  February  13,  1778,  and  sent  to  de 
mand  of  the  admiral,  if  he  would  return  my  salute;  and 
this  compliment  was  immediately  agreed  to  by  that 
brave  officer,  although  neither  he  nor  I  knew  at  that  pe 
riod,  that  a  treaty  of  alliance  had  been  signed  between 
France  and  America  seven  days  before.  This  was  the 
first  salute  received  by  the  American  flag  from  any  pow 
er,  and  occasioned  much  dispute  in  the  English  par 
liament. 

I  now  set  sail  from  the  bay  of  Quiberon  to  Brest,  but 
did  not  enter  the  road ;  on  the  contrary,  I  anchored  at 
Cammeret,  where  I  was  detained  by  contrary  winds  un 
til  the  French  embassador  at  the  court  of  St.  James', 
had  announced  the  treaty  lately  concluded  between  his 
most  Christian  majesty  and  the  United  States. 

On  this,  1  immediately  sailed  into  Brest  water,  and 
saluted  the  Count  D'Orvilliers,  who  returned  the  salute, 
and  received  me  with  all  the  honours  due  to  an  admiral, 
on  board  his  flag-ship  La  Bretagne. 

In  the  month  of  February,  1776,  the  parliament  of 
England  had  authorized  George  III.  to  treat  all  the  A- 
mericans  taken  at  sea,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  as  trai 
tors,  pirates,  and  felons;  this,  more  than  any  other  cir 
cumstance,  rendered  me  the  declared  enemy  of  Great 
Britain.  From  the  very  commencement  of  the  war,  an 
exchange  of  prisoners  had  taken  place  between  General 
Washington  and  the  commanders  of  the  enemy's  army; 
notwithstanding  the  haughty  conduct  of  Great  Britain, 
she  was  obliged  to  submit  to  this  arrangement,  and  con 
sider  the  American  soldiers,  as  prisoners  of  war.  It  was, 
however, an  atrocious  crime  to  act  against  her  by  sea; 
and  England,  on  this  occasion,  perpetuated  anew,  all  the 
cruelties  on  America  which  she  had  lavished  on  Scot 
land  in  1745.  A  ferocious  and  vindictive  people  would 
have  rejoiced  to  have  seen  the  American  sailors  cut 
down  from  the  gibbet  while  yet  alive,  their  breast  open 
ed  with  a  knife,  and  their  yet  palpitating  hearts  thrown 


JOHN   PAUL   JONES.  37? 

into  the  flames!  If  they  did  not  dare  to  attempt  this* 
they,  however,  shut  up  a  number  of  citizens  of  the 
United  States  in  the  English  prisons  during  five  whole 
years,  where  they  suffered  all  the  horrors  proceeding 
from  cold>  hunger,  and  «ivery  sort  of  mal-treatment. 
Some  of  these  unfortunates  were  sold  on  the  coast  of 
Africa,  while  others  were  transported  to  the  West  In 
dies.  The  firmness  with  which  these  martyrs  of  liberty 
supported  their  hard  lot,  is  wholly  unexampled;  for  they 
preferred  every  kind  of  persecution  to  serving  on  board 
the  English  navy. 

Indignant  at  the  barbarous  treatment  experienced  by 
the  Americans,  I  determined  to  make  a  grand  effort  in 
their  behalf,  with  a  view  of  stopping  the  barbarous  pro 
ceedings  of  the  English  in  Europe,  as  well  as  on  the 
western  continent ;  in  the  latter  of  which  they  set  fire  to 
their  houses,  destroyed  their  property,  and  burned  and 
destroyed  whole  towns.  I  accordingly  determined,  by 
way  of  retaliation,  to  effect  a  descent  upon  some  part  of 
England,  with  a  view  of  destroying  the  shipping.  It 
was  also  my  intention  to  make  some  person  of  distiftc- 
tion  prisoner,  whom  I  resolved  to  detain  as  a  hostage  for 
the  security  of,  and  in  order  to  exchange  with,  the 
American  prisoners  in  England. 

Admiral  D'Orvilliers,  to  whom  I  communicated  this 
project,  offered  to  procure  for  me  a  captain's  commission 
in  the  French  marine,  that,  in  case  I  met  with  any  dis 
asters,  I  might  claim  the  protection  of  his  most  Christian 
majesty ;  but  however  advantageous  this  was,  I  deter 
mined  to  decline  the  acceptance;  because  in  the  first 
place,  I  was  not  authorized  by  congress  to  change  my 
flag;  and,  in  the  second,  such  conduct  might  have  ren 
dered  my  attachment  to  America  suspected. 

I  accordingly  sailed  from  Brest,  and  advanced  to 
wards  Ireland,  neglecting  the  capture  of  a  number  of 
vessels  within  my  reach,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  diminish 
the  strength  of  my  crew.  Near  to  the  entrance  into 
Carrickfergus,  I  however,  seized  on  a  fishing  boat,  man 
ned  with  six  persons,  who  proved  to  be  pilots.  The 
Drake,  a  twenty  gun  ship,  happened  to  be  then  on  the 
,  and  even  within  sight;  I  imagined  it  possible  to 

Z2 


378  JOHN    PAUL    JOiVES. 

obtain  possession  of  her  by  surprise  during  the  night*-— 
With  this  view,  I  immediately  gave  orders  for  making 
the  necessary  preparations ;  but  the  mate,  who  had  drank 
too  much  brandy,  did  not  let  go  the  anchor  according  to 
orders,  which  prevented  the  Ranger  from  running  foul 
of  the  Drake  according  to  my  intentions.  As  I  had 
reason  to  believe,  that  my  appearance  had  not  hitherto 
given  any  alarm,  I  deemed  it  prudent  to  cut  my  cable, 
and  returned  into  St.  George's  channel.  I  remained 
there,  buffetted  about  by  the  winds,  during  three  days, 
until  the  weather  having  become  more  favourable,  I  de 
termined  a  second  time  to  attempt  a  descent;  this  pro 
ject,  however,  greatly  alarmed  my  lieutenants;  they 
were  poor,  they  said,  and  their  object  was  gain,  not  hon 
our:  they  accordingly  excited  disobedience  among  the 
ship's  company,  by  persuading  them  that  they  had  a 
right  to  determine,  whether  the  measures  adopted  by  me 
were  well  concerted  or  not. 

I  happened  to  beat  this  period  within  sight  of  White- 
haven,  in  Cumberland,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Solway 
Frith.  This  is  a  considerable  harbor,  in  which  there 
then  were  about  400  sail,  some  of  them  vessels  of  250 
tons  burthen;  and  I  had  determined  to  take  advantage 
of  the  ebb  tide,  when  the  shipping  was  dry,  to  destroy 
them.  To  effect  this,  it  was  necesary  to  land  about 
midnight,  with  a  party  of  determined  men,  and  seize  on 
a  fort  and  a  battery,  which  defended  the  port.  My  two 
lieutenants,  being  averse  to  the  enterprise,  and  yet  being 
unwilling  to  discover  their  true  motives,  feigned  illness. 
On  this  I  determined  to  take  the  command  in  person, 
and  with  much  difficulty  prevailed  on  thirty  volunteers 
to  follow  me. 

With  this  handful  of  men,  and  two  small  boats,  I  quit 
ted  the  Ranger,  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and  rowed 
towards  the  haibor;  but,  it  being  farther  off  than  we 
imagined,  and  the  tide  against  us,  day  broke  before  we 
had  effected  a  landing. 

I  now  sent  the  smallest  of  the  boats  towards  the  nor 
thern  side  of  the  harbor  to  set  fire  to  the  vessels,  while 
I  myself  advanced  with  the  other  to  the  south,  to  take 
possession  of  the  forl  and  battery,  the  first  of  which 


JOHN    PAUL   JONES-  379 

was  taken  by  assault,  I  myself  being  the  first  to  enter 
if.  through  one  of  the  embrasures.  We  then  nailed  up 
the  thirty-six  cannon  mounted  on  the  batteries,  and  ad 
vanced  towards  the  south,  with  a  view  of  burning  all 
the  vessels,  when  to  my  infinite  astonishment,  I  beheld 
the  other  boat  returning,  without  having  done  any  thing. 

On  this  I  deemecf  it  best  to  unite  my  forces,  with  a 
view  of  effecting,  at  least  some  part  of  our  enterprise. 
In  short  we  set  fire  to  some  of  the  vessels,  and  it  soon 
burned  with  great  fierceness,  and  began  to  communicate ; 
but  as  it  was  now  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the 
inhabitants  began  to  approach  near  us  in  crowds,  I  could 
no  longer  defer  my  retreat,  which  was  made  in  good  or 
der.  On  my  return  on  board  the  Ranger,  the  wind  being 
favorable,  I  set  sail  for  the  coast  of  Scotland.  It  was 
my  intention  to  take  the  Earl  of  Selkirk  prisoner,  and 
detain  his  lordship  as  a  hostage,  in  conformity  to  the 
project  already  mentioned.  It  was  with  this  view  about 
noon  of  the  same  day  I  landed  on  that  nobleman's  es 
tate,  with  two  officers  and  a  few  men.  In  the  course  of 
my  progress,  I  fell  in  with  some  of  the  inhabitants,  who, 
taking  me  for  an  Englishman,  observed,  that  Lord  Sel 
kirk,  was  then  in  London,  but  that  her  ladyship  and  sev 
eral  other  ladies  were  at  the  castle. 

On  this,  I  determined  to  return ;  but  such  moderate 
conduct  was  not  conformable  to  the  wishes  of  my  peo 
ple,  who  were  disposed  to  pillage,  burn  and  destroy  every 
thing,  in  imitation  of  the  conduct  of  the  English  towards 
the  Americans.  Although  I  was  not  disposed  to  copy 
such  horrid  proceedings,  more  especially  when  a  lady 
was  in  question,  it  was  yet  necessary  to  recur  to  such 
means  as  should  satisfy  their  cupidity,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  provide  for  Lady  Selkirk's  safety,  It  immediately 
appeared  to  me,  to  be  the  most  proper  mode  to  give  or 
ders  to  the  two  officers  to  repair  to  the  castle  with  the 
men,  who  were  to  remain  on  the  outside  under  arms, 
while  they  themselves  entered  alone.  They  were  then 
instructed  to  enter,  and  demand  the  family  plate,  in  a 
polite  manner,  accepting  whatever  was  offered  them,  and 
then  to  return,  without  making  any  further  inquiries.,  or 
attempting  to  search  for  more. 


,380  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

I  was  punctually  obeyed ;  the  plate  was  delivered : 
Lady  Selkirk  herself  observed  to  the  officers,  that  she 
was  exceedingly  sensible  of  my  moderation;  she  even 
intimated  a  wish  to  repair  to  the  shore,  although  a  mile 
distance  from  her  residence,  in  order  to  invite  me  to  din 
ner;  but  the  officers  would  not  allow  her  ladyship  to  take 
so  much  trouble. 

Next  day,  April  4,  1778, 1  prepared  to  return  to  Car- 
rickfergus,  to  attack  the  Drake  in  open  day;  but  the 
lieutenants  were  averse  to  the  project,  and  the  crew  of 
the  Ranger  became  so  mutinous,  that  1  ran  no  small 
risk  of  being  either  killed  or  thrown  into  the  sea;  and 
but  two  days  before,  I  was  on  the  point  of  being  aban 
doned,  and  left  ashore  at  VVhitehaven. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  captain  of  the  Drake  sloop  of 
war,  having  been  informed  of  our  descent  at  Whiteha- 
ven,  prepared  to  attack  us;  and,  while  every  thing  was 
getting  ready,  he  despatched  an  officer  on  board  his 
boat,  with  a  spy-glass,  in  order  to  reconnoitre  the  Ran 
ger.  On  this,  I  immediately  masked  my  guns,  kept  my 
men  out  of  sight,  and  disguised  the  vessel  insuch  a  man 
ner  as  to  resemble  a  merchantman;  inconsequence  of 
this  the  crew  of  the  boat  were  deceived  and  taken. 
This  trifling  success  produced  the  effect  of  enchantment 
on  my  sailors,  who  were  no  longer  averse  from  giving 
her  battle. 

The  Drake,  having  fired  some  cannon  to  recal  he* 
boat,  hoisted  her  anchor,  and  came  out  attended  by  a 
number  of  yachts  and  pleasure-boats,  with  ladies  and 
gentlemen  on  board:  but  when  the  engagement  became 
serious,  they  thought  proper  to  withdraw  to  a  respectful 
distance. 

No  sooner  did  the  enemy  make  his  appearance,  than 
/  lay  to,  determined  not  to  engage  until  she  came  within 
pistol  shot.  The  engagement  was  accordingly  sustain 
ed  witb  great  vivacity  on  both  sides,  during  an  hour 
and  five  minutes,  when  the  captain  and  lieutenant  being 
both  mortally  wounded,  the  English  flag  was  lowered, 
and  I  took  possession  of  her,  I  regretted  greatly  the 
death  of  these  brave  men,  and  committed  them  to  the 
ocean  with  all  the  honors  due  to  their  valor.  I,  at  the 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  381 

same  time,  dismissed  the  six  fishermen,  whom  I  have 
before  mentioned,  whose  loss  I  repaired,  and  whose  ser 
vices  I  recompensed  out  of  my  own  purse. 

The  Drake  was  greatly  damaged  in  her  masts  and 
tackling,  and  lost  forty  men  either  killed  or  wounded 
during  the  action.  I  had  also  taken  several  other  pri 
zes;  but,  as  my  complement  of  men  had  only  amounted 
to  one  hundred  and  twenty-three,  I  retained  no  more 
than  two  of  them,  which  arrived  in  safety  at  Brest, 
where  I  myself  anchored  with  the  Ranger  and  Drake, 
on  the  7th  of  May,  after  an  absence  of  twenty-eight 
days,  during  which  I  had  taken  upwards  of  two  hundred 
prisoners.  This  expedition  was  of  great  disservice  to 
Great  Britain,  as  she  was  not  only  obliged  to  fortify  her 
ports,  but  also  to  permit  the  arming  of  the  Irish  volun 
teers,  as  Lord  Mountmorris  demonstrated  in  a  speech  in 
parliament. 

At  the  time  I  had  been  obliged  to  permit  my  people 
to  take  Lady  Selkirk's  plate,  I  determined  to  redeem  it 
out  of  my  own  funds  the  moment  it  should  be  sold,  and 
restore  it  to  the  family.  Accordingly  on  my  arrival  at 
Brest,  I  instantly  despatched  a  most  pathetic  letter  to 
her  ladyship,  in  which  I  detailed  the  motives  of  my  ex 
pedition,  and  the  cruel  necessity  I  was  under,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  conduct  of  the  English  in  America,  to 
inflict  the  punishment  of  retaliation.  This  was  sent 
open  to  the  postmaster-general,  that  it  might  be  shown 
to  the  king  of  England  and  his  ministers,  and  the  court 
of  St.  James  was  at  length  obliged  to  renounce  the  san 
guinary  act  of  its  parliament,  and  exchange  those  very 
Americans  whom  they  called  traitors,  pirates  and  fel 
ons,  against  the  prisoners  of  war,  whom  I  had  taken  and 
carried  to  France. 

"RANGER,  BREST,  8th  May,  1778. 

''''Madam — It  cannot  be  too  much  lamented,  that,  in 
the  profession  of  arms,  the  officer  of  finer  feeling,  and  of 
real  sensibility,  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  winking 
at  any  action  of  persons  tinder  his  command,  which  his 
heart  cannot  approve ;  but  the  reflection  is  doubly  se 
vere,  when  he  finds  himself  obliged,  in  appearance,  to 
countenance  such  action  by  authority. 


382  .JOHN   PAUL 

"This  hard  case  was  mine,  when,  on  the  23d  of  April 
last,  I  landed  on  St.  Mary's  Isle.  Knowing  Lord  Sel 
kirk's  interest  with  his  king,  1  wished  to  make  him  the 
happy  instrument  of  alleviating  the  horrors  of  hopeless 
captivity,  when  the  brave  are  overpowered  and  made 
prisoners  of  war.  It  was  perhaps  fortunate  for  you, 
madam,  that  he  \fas  from  home,  for  it  was  my  intention 
to  have  taken  him  on  board  the  Ranger,  and  to  have 
detained  him,  until,  through  his  means,  a  general  and 
fair  exchange  of  prisoners,  as  well  in  Europe  as  in 
America,  had  been  effected. 

"When  I  was  informed,  by  some  men  whom  I  met  at 
landing,  that  his  lordship  was  absent,  I  walked  back  to 
my  boat,  determined  to  leave  the  island.  By  the  way, 
however,  some  officers,  who  were  with  me,  could  not 
forbear  expressing  their  discontent,  observing,  that  in 
America  na  delicacy  was  shown  by  the  English,  who 
took  away  all  sorts  of  moveable  property,  setting  fire 
not  only  to  towns,  and  to  the  houses  of  the  rich,  without 
distinction,  but  not  even  sparing  the  wretched  hamlets 
and  milk-cows  of  the  poor  and  helpless,  at  the  approach 
of  an  inclement  winter.  That  party  had  been  with  me 
as  volunteers  the  same  morning  at  Whitehaven;  some 
complaisance,  therefore,  was  their  due.  I  had  but  a 
moment  to  think  how  I  might  gratify  them,  and  at  the 
same  time,  do  your  ladyship  the  least  injury.  I  charged 
the  two  officers  to  permit  none  of  the  seamen  to  enter 
the  house,  or  to  hurt  any  thing  about  it;  to  treat  you, 
madam,  with  the  utmost  respect;  to  accept  of  the  plate 
which  was  offered;  and  to  come  away  without  making 
a  search,  or  demanding  any  thing  else.  I  am  induced  to 
believe  that  I  was  punctually  obeyed,  since  1  am  inform 
ed  that  the  plate  which  they  brought  away  is  far  short 
of  the  quantity  which  is  expressed  in  the  inventory 
which  accompanied  it.  I  have  gratified  my  men,  and 
when  the  plate  is  soldi  shall  become  the  purchaser,  and 
will  gratify  my  own  feelings,  by  restoring  it  to  you  by 
such  conveyance  as  you  shall  please  to  direct. 

*'  Had  the  earl  been  on  board  the  following  evening^ 
he  would  have  seen  the  awful  pomp  and  dreadful  car 
nage  of  a  sea  engagement;  both  affording  ample  subject 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 


383 


for  the  pencil,  as  well  as  melancholy  reflection  for  the 
contemplative  mind.  Humanity  starts  back  at  such 
scenes  of  horror,  and  cannot  but  execrate  the  vile  pro 
moters  of  this  detested  war: — 

For  they,  'twas  they,  unsheathed  the  ruthless  blade, 
And  Heaven  shall  ask  the  havoc  it  has  made.      . 

"The  British  ship  of  war  Drake,  mounting  twenty 
guns,  with  more  than  her  full  complement  of  officers  and 
men,  besides  a  number  of  volunteers,  came  out  from 
Carrickfergus,  in  order  to  attack  and  take  the  continen 
tal  ship  of  war  Ranger,  of  eighteen  guns,  and  short  of 
her  complememt  of  officers  and  men ;  the  ships  met, 
and  the  advantage  was  disputed  with  great  fortitude 
on  each  side  for  an  hour  and  five  minutes,  when  the  gal 
lant  commander  of  the  Drake  fell,  and  victory  declared 
in  favour  of  the  Ranger.  His  amiable  lieutenant  lay 
mortally  wounded,  besides  near  forty  of  the  inferior 
officers  and  crew  killed  and  wounded.  A  melancholy 
demonstration  of  the  uncertainty  of  human  prospects, 
I  buried  them  in  a  spacious  grave,  with  the  honours  due 
to  the  memory  of  the  brave. 

"Though  I  have  drawn  my  sword  in  the  present  gen 
erous  struggle  for  the  rights  of  man,  yet  I  am  in  arms 
merely  as  an  American,  nor  am  I  in  pursuit  of  riches. 
My  fortune  is  liberal  enough,  having  no  wife  nor  family, 
and  having  lived  long  enough  to  know  that  riches  cannot 
ensure  happiness.  I  profess  myself  a  citizen  of  the 
world,  totally  unfettered  by  the  little  mean  distinctions 
of  climate  or  of  country,  which  diminish  the  benevo 
lence  of  the  heart,  and  set  bounds  to  philanthropy. 
Before  this  war  began,  I  had,  at  an  early  time  of  life, 
withdrawn  from  the  sea-service,  in  favour  of  'calm  con 
templation  and  poetic  ease.'  I  have  sacrificed,  not  only 
my  favourite  scheme  of  life,  but  the  softer  affections  of  the 
heart,  and  my  prospects  of  domestic  happiness,  and  I 
am  ready  to  sacrifice  my  life,  also,  with  cheerfulness,  if 
that  forfeiture  would  restore  peace  and  good  will  among 
mankind. 

"As  the  feelings  of  your  gentle  bosom  cannot,  in  that 
respect,  but  be  congenial  with  mine,  let  me  entreat  you. 
madam,  to  use  your  soft  pursnasive  arts  with  your  hu's- 


384  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

band,  to  endeavour  to  stop  this  cruel  and  destructive 
war,  in  which  Britain  never  can  succeed.  Heaven  can 
never  countenance  the  barbarous  and  unmanly  practi 
ces  of  the  Britons  in  America,  which  savages  would 
blush  at,  and  which,  if  not  discontinued,  will  soon 
be  retaliated  in  Britain  by  a  justly  enraged  people. — 
Should  you  fail  in  this,  (for  I  am  persuaded  you  will  at 
tempt  it — and  who  can  resist  the  power  of  such  an  ad 
vocate?)  your  endeavours  to  effect  a  general  exchange 
of  prisoners  will  be  an  act  of  humanity,  which  will  af 
ford  you  golden  feelings  on  a  death  bed. 

"I  hope  this  cruel  contest  will  soon  be  closed;  but 
should  it  continue,  I  wage  no  war  with  the  fair!  I  ac 
knowledge  their  power,  and  bend  before  it  with  profound 
submission!  Let  not,  therefore,  the  amiable  Countess  of 
Selkirk  regard  me  as  an  enemy;  I  am  ambitious  of  her 
esteem,  and  friendship,  and  would  do  any  thing,  consis 
tent  with  my  duty,  to  merit  it. 

"The  honour  of  a  line  from  your  hand,  in  answer  to 
this,  will  lay  me  under  a  very  singular  obligation;  and  if 
I  can  render  you  any  acceptable  service,  in  France  or 
elsewhere,  I  hope  you  see  into  my  character  so  far  as 
to  command  me  without  the  least  grain  of  service.  I 
wish  to  know,  exactly,  the  behaviour  of  my  people,  as  I 
am  determined  to  punish  them  if  they  have  exceeded 
their  liberty, 

"I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  much  esteem  and  pro 
found  respect,  madam,  your  most  obedient  and  most 
humble  servant.  PA  UL  JONES. 

"To  the  Right  Hon.  the  Countess  of  Selkirk,  St.  Ma 
ry's  Isle,  Scotland." 

During  the  course  of  the  war,  I  found  it  impossible  to 
restore  the  plate  belonging  to  the  Selkirk  family;  I, 
however,  purchased  it  at  a  great  price,  and  at  length 
found  means  to  send  it  by  land  from  TOrient  to  Calais, 
by  means  of  M.  de  Calonne,  who  transmitted  me  a  very 
flattering  letter  on  the  occasion;  in  short  I  at  length  re 
ceived  a  very  flattering  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Selkirk, 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  it. 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  38'5 

I  had  no  sooner  arrived  at  Brest,  than  Admiral  the 
Count  D'Orvilliers  transmitted  an  account  of  rny  expe 
dition  to  the  minister  of  the  marine,  in  consequence  of 
which  it  was  intimated  to  Dr.  Franklin,  that  his  majesty 
was  desirous  that  I  should  repair  to  Versailles,  as  he 
was  resolved  to  employ  me  on  a  secret  expedition,  for 
which  purpose  he  would  give  me  the  Indienne,  with  some 
other  frigates,  with  troops,  &c.  for  the  purpose  of  effect 
ing  a  descent.  I  was  instantly  informed  of  this  by  the 
ambassador,  who  observed  to  me,  at  the  same  time,  that 
this  must  be  considered  as  a  profound  secret,  it  being  of 
so  important  a  nature,  that  it  had  been  deemed  proper 
to  withhold  a  communication  of  it  even  to  his  colleagues. 

M.  de  Sartine  received  me  with  the  most  distinguished 
politeness,  making  me,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  flat 
tering  promises;  and  the  Prince  de  Nassau  was  sent 
into  Holland  to  give  instructions  for  the  necessary 
arrangements  for  arming  and  equipping  the  frigate 
intended  for  me.  But,  in  a  short  time  after  this,  hos 
tilities  took  place  between  France  and  England  in  con 
sequence  of  the  action  with  La  Belle  Poule.  This  not 
a  little  embarrassed  the  Minister  of  the  Marine,  and  the 
difficulty  was  not  diminished  by  the  intelligence  brought 
by  the  prince,  who  asserted  that  the  Dutch  would  not 
permit  the  Indienne  to  be  equipped. 

As  M.  de  Sartine  had  written  to  the  three  American 
ministers,  and  obtained  their  consent  for  my  remaining 
in  Europe,  I  offered  to  serve  on  board  of  the  grand  fleet; 
I  also  communicated  several  plans  for  crippling  the 
power  of  England,  such  as  that  of  destroying  her  trade 
and  settlements  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  in  Hudson's 
Bay;  of  annihilating  their  fisheries  in  Newfoundland; 
intercepting  their  East  and  West  India,  and,  above  all, 
the  Baltic  fleet,  which  was  escorted  by  a  single  frigate, 
as  I  learned  by  certain  information  from  England.  The 
minister  adopted  the  last  of  these  plans;  and  I  accor 
dingly  repaired  to  Brest,  to  take  the  command  of  one  of 
the  frigates  of  that  port,  with  two  others,  and  a  cutter, 
&c.  then  at  St.  Maloes;  but  I  found  on  my  arrival,  that 
the  admiral  had  appointed  a  French  officer  to  the  vessel 
in  question ;  and  as  there  was  not  a  single  moment  t«  be 

A3 


386  JOHN    PAUL    JONEb. 

lost,  the  senior  officer  of  the  frigate  at  St.  Maloes  was 
despatched  against  the  Baltic  fleet,  which  he  missed  by 
not  steering  sufficiently  near  to  the  coast  of  England  t© 
intercept  it. 

Being  greatly  disgusted  with  a  series  of  delays,  that 
ensued  during  nine  months,  I  at  length  repaired  to  Ver- 
s£.illes,  with  an  intention  of  returning  to  America,  if  I 
should  not  immediately  obtain  a  command:  for  I  recol 
lected  the  saying  of  Old  Richard,  4If  you  wish  that 
your  affairs  should  be  prosperous,  superintend  them  in 
person.'  &c.  This  induced  me  to  promise,  that  if  the 
minister  should  at  length  comply  with  my  request,  1 
should  call  my  own  ship,  'Old  Richard.' 

Accordingly,  on   obtaining  Le  Duras,  until  a  better 

vessel  could  be  procured,!  called  her .     She  was 

a  very  small  and  very  old  and  infirm  vessel,  that  had 
made  four  voyages  to  the  East  Indies.  As  proper  guns 

could  not  be  procured  at  I/Orient,  where  the 

lay,  I  repaired  first  to  Bordeaux,  and  then  to  Angou- 
leme,  where  I  made  a  contract  for  such  as  I  wanted. 
On  ruy  return,  I  found  that  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette, 
who  had  returned  from  America,  was  desirous  to  join 
me  in  the  expedition,  it  being  intended  that  he  should 
command  a  body  of  land  forces,  he  having  obtained  the 
king's  command  for  that  purpose. 

While  the  necessary  arrangements  were  making  at 
court,  a  naval  commissary  purchased  at  Nantes  a  mer 
chantman,  called  La  Pallas  of  thirty-two  eight  pounders, 
and  a  brig  called  La  Vengeance,  of  twelve  three  poun 
ders;  but  neither  of  them  was  calculated  for  war:  to 
these  was  added  Le  Ccrf,  a  very  fine  cutter  belonging  to 
the  royal  navy,  carrying  eighteen  nine  pounders;  with 
the  Alliance,  a  new  frigate,  belonging  to  the  United 
States:  but  as  the  guns  had  not  as  yet  arrived  from 
Angouleme,  The  Good  Man  Richard  was  armed  from  an 
old  battery  of  twelve  pounders;  and  as  the  expedition 
was  intended  against  the  enemy's  ports,  I  mounted  six 
old  eighteen  pounders  in  the  gun  room,  so  that  she  might 
in  some  measure  be  called.a  forty  gun  ship.  As  it  was 
found  impossible  to  procure  a  sufficient  number  of  Amer 
ican  sailors,  I  determined  to  supply  the  deficiency  by 


JOHN   PAUL   JONES.  387 

e/nrolling  English  ones,  who  happened  to  be  prisoners  of 
war  in  France;  and  in  addition  to  these,  a  certain  num 
ber  of  peasants  was  levied;  so  that  we  may  be  said  to 
have  had  as  bad  a  crew  as  was  ever  shipped  on  board 
any  vessel. — I  was  given  to  undersand,  however,  that 
the  chosen  body  of  troops,  under  the  command  of  the 
Marquis  de  la  Fayette,  would  serve  as  a  guarantee  for 
their  good  conduct;  but  no  sooner  was  the  little  squad 
ron  ready,  than  I  received  a  letter  from  the  Marquis, 
intimating  that,  the  object  of  the  expedition  having  been 
divulged  at  Paris,  the  king  had  issued  orders  to  prevent 
the  embarkation  of  the  troops,  in  consequence  of  which 
he  had  joined  his  regiment. 

Thus  the  project,  which  was  no  less  than  that  of  put 
ting  Liverpool,  the  second  town  in  England,  under  con 
tribution,  failed,  in  consequence  of  having  been  indis 
creetly  communicated  to****** 

I  ought  also  to  remark,  that,  according  to  the  first 
arrangement,  my  little  squadron  was  to  have  been  joined 
by  two  fire-ships,  and  five  hundred  men  of  Walsh's  Irish 
regiment;  but  the  minister  did  not  keep  his  word ;  for  he 
neither  procured  for  me  the  fire-ships  nor  the  soldiers; 
so  that  it  became  impossible  for  me  to  fulfil  the  plan  I 
had  concerted,  although  it  was  still  more  important  than 
that  of  seizing  on  Liverpool. 

I  now  received  orders  to  escort  a  fleet  of  transports 
and  merchantmen  from  L'Orient,  destined  for  different 
ports  between  that  and  Bordeaux;  and  after  that  I  was 
to  chase  away  the  English  cruizers  from  the  Bay  of 
Biscay,  and  then  to  return  for  further  orders. 

After  executing  this  commission,  on  my  representing 
how  necessary  it  was  to  make  a  diversion  in  favour  of 
the  Count  D'Orvi.lliers,  then  cruizing  in  the  Channel, 
with  sixty-six  ships  of  the  line,  I  received  tfcarte  blanche 
during  six  weeks,  without  any  other  restriction  than  that 
of  repairing  to  the  Texel,  by  the  first  of  October.  By 
this  time,  I  received  intimation  from  England,  that  eight 
East  Indiamen  were  soon  expected  on  the  coast  of  Ire 
land,  near  to  Limerick.  This  was  an  object  of  great 
attention;  and  as  there  were  two  privateers  at  Port 
L'Orient,  ready  for  sea,  Le  Monsieur,  of  forty  guns,  and 


388  JOHN  PAUL  JONES. 

Le  Granvillc,  of  fourteen,  the  captains  of  which  offered 
to  place  themselves  under  my  orders,  I  accepted  the 
proposition.  But  the  French  commissary,  who  superin 
tended  the  naval  department,  acted  with  great  impropri 
ety  on  this,  as  well  as  on  many  former  occasions. 

The  little  squadron  at  length  set  sail  from  the  road 
of  Groays,  on  the  fourteenth  of  August,  1779;  but  we 
had  no  sooner  proceeded  to  the  north  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Channel,  than  Le  Monsieur  and  Le  Granvillc  aban 
doned  me  during  the  night,  and  Le  Cerf  soon  after  imita 
ted  their  conduct.  I  was  extremely  anxious  to  cruize 
for  a  fortnight  in  the  latitude  of  Limerick;  but  the  cap 
tain  of  the  Alliance,  after  objecting  to  this,  also  left  me 
during  the  night;  and  as  I  had  now  with  me  only  the 
Pallas  and  the  Vengeance,  I  was  obliged  to  renounce 
my  original  intentions. 

I  took  tyvo  prizes  on  the  coast  of  Ireland;  and,  within 
sight  of  Scotland,  came  up  and  seized  two  privateers,  of 
twenty-two  guns  each,  which,  with  a  brigantine,  I  sent  to 
Bergen,  in  Norway,  according  to  the  orders  I  had  receiv 
ed  from  Dr.  Franklin:  these  prizes,  however,  were  res 
tored  to  the  English  by  the  king  of  Denmark. 

When  I  entered  the  North  Sea,  I  captured  several 
vessels,  and  learned  by  my  prisoners,  as  well  as  by  the 
newspapers,  that  the  capital  of  Scotland  and  the  port 
of  Leith  were  left  totally  defenceless.  I  also  under 
stood,  at  the  same  time,  that  my  information  relative  to 
the  eight  Indiamen  was  correct;  they  having  entered 
Limerick  three  days  after  I  had  been  obliged  to  leave 
the  neighborhood  of  that  port. 

As  there  was  only  a  twenty  gun  ship  and  two  cutters 
in  Leith  Road,  I  deemed  it  practicable  to  lay  those  two 
places  under  contribution.  I  had  indeed  no  other  force 
to  execute  this  project  than  the  Richard,  the  Pallas,  and 
the  Vengeance;  but  I  well  knew,  that  in  order  to  per 
form  a  brilliant  action,  it  is  not  always  necessary  to  pos 
sess  great  means.  I  therefore  held  out  the  prospect  of 
great  booty  to  the  captains  under  my  command;  and, as 
to  myself,  was  satisfied  with  the  idea  of  making  a  diver 
sion  in  favour  of  the  Count  D'Orvilliers,  who  was  then  in 
the  Channel, 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  389 

I  now  distributed  red  clothes  to  my  men,  and  put 
some  of  them  on  board  the  prizes,  so  as  to  give  them 
the  appearance  of  transports  full  of  troops.  All  the  ne 
cessary  arrangements  were  also  taken  to  carry  the  en 
terprise  into  execution;  but,  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
before  the  descent  was  to  have  been  made,  a  sudden 
tempest  arose,  and  drove  me  out  of  the  Forth,  or  Edin 
burgh  Frith,  and  so  violent  was  the  storm,  that  one  of 
my  prizes  was  lost. 

This  did  not,  however,  deter  me,  notwithstanding  the 
smallness  of  rr.y  forces,  from  forming  different  enterpri 
ses  of  a  similar  nature:  but  I  could  not  induce  the  cap 
tains  of  the  Pallas  and  Vengeance  to  second  my  views; 
I  was  therefore  obliged  to  content  myself  by  spreading 
alarm  on  the  coast,  and  destroying  the  shipping,  which 
I  did  as  far  as  Hull. 

On  the  morning  of  the  23d  of  September,  while  I  was 
cruizing  in  the  latitude  of  Flamborough  Head,  which  I 
had  appointed  as  a  place  of  rendezvous  for  my  little 
squadron,  and  where  I  hoped  to  be  rejoined  by  the  Alli 
ance  and  Le  Cerf,  and  also  to  fall  in  with  the  Baltic 
fleet;  this  convoy  accordingly  appeared,  at  a  time  when 
I  had  been  abandoned  by  several  of  my  consorts,  had 
lost  two  boats,  with  their  crews,  who  had  run  away  on 
the  coast  of  Ireland,  and  when  a  third,  with  eighteen 
men  on  board,  was  in  chase  of  a  merchantman  to  the 
windward,  leaving  me  with  a  scanty  crew,  and  only  a 
single  lieutenant  and  some  inferior  officers  on  board. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  that  the 
Baltic  fleet  appeared  in  view;  I  then  happened  to  have 
the  wind  of  it,  and  was  about  two  leagues  distant  from 
the  coast  of  England.  I  learned  from  my  prisoners  that 
the  convoy  was  escorted  by  the  Serapis,  a  new  vessel, 
that  could  mount  fifty-six  guns,  but  then  carried  only 
forty-four,  on  two  decks,  the  lower  battery  carrying  eigh 
teen  pounders,  and  the  Countess  of  Scarborough,  a  new 
twenty-two  gun  ship. 

We  were  no  sooner  descried,  than  the  armed  vessels 
stood  out  to  sea,  while  the  trade  took  refuge  under  the 
cannon  of  Scarborough  castle. 


390  JOHN   PAUL    JONES. 

As  there  was  but  little  wind,  I  could  not  come  up 
with  the  enemy  before  night.  The  moon  did  not  rise  un 
til  eight,  and  at  the  close  of  the  day  the  Serapis  and 
Countess  of  Scarborough  tacked  and  stood  in  for  the 
fortress.  I  was  lucky  enough  to  discover  this  manoeuvre 
by  means  of  my  night  glass,  without  which  I  should  have 
remained  in  ignorance  of  it.  On  this  I  immediately  al 
tered  my  course  six  points,  with  a  view  of  cutting  off 
the  enemy;  which  was  no  sooner  perceived  by  the  Pal 
las,  than  it  was  supposed  my  crew  had  mutinied,  which 
induced  her  captain  to  haul  his  wind  and  stand  out  to 
sea,  while  the  Alliance  lay  to,  to  windward,  at  a  consid 
erable  distance;  and,  as  the  captain  of  this  vessel  had 
never  paid  any  attention  whatever  to  the  signals  of  the 
Richard  since  her  leaving  France,  I  was  obliged  to  run 
all  risks,  and  enter  into  an  action  with  the  Richard  only, 
to  prevent  the  enemy's  escape. 

I  accordingly  began  the  engagement  at  7  o'clock  at 
night,  within  pistol  shot  of  the  Serapis,  and  sustained 
the  brunt  of  it  for  nearly  a  whole  hour  at  that  distance, 
exposed,  not  only  to  her  fire,  but  also  to  that  of  the 
Countess  of  Scarborough,  which  raked  the  Richard,  by 
means  of  the  broadsides  she  fired  into  her  stern. 

It  ought  to  be  here  remarked,  that  the  Richard,  prop 
erly  speaking,  was  only  a  thirty-four  gun  frigate,  carry 
ing  only  twelve  pounders; but  six  eighteen  pounders  had 
been  placed  in  the  gun  room,  in  case  of  being  obliged  to 
recur  to  a  cannonade  in  an  enemy's  harbour.  The  sea 
being  very  calm  during  the  engagement,  I  hoped  to  be 
able  to  derive  great  advantage  from  this  circumstance; 
but  instead  of  this,  they  burst  at  the  commencement  of 
the  action,  and  the  officers  and  men  posted  at  this  ser 
vice,  and  who  were  selected  as  the  best  of  the  whole 
crew,  were  either  killed,  wounded,  or  affrighted  to  such 
a  degree,  that  none  of  them  were  of  any  service  during 
the  rest  of  the  engagement. 

In  this  unfortunate  extremity,  having  to  contend  with 
three  times  my  own  strength,  the  Richard  being  in  immi 
nent  danger  of  going  to  the  bottom,  and  her  guns  being 
no  longer  in  a  condition  to  return  the  enemy's  fire,  I  had 
recourse*  to  a  dangerous  expedient,  to  grapple  with  the 


JOHN    PAUL   JONES.  391 

Serapis,  in  order,  on  the  one  hand,  to  render  her  superi 
ority  useless,  and,  on  the  other,  to  cover  ourselves  from 
the  fire  of  her  consort.  This  manoeuvre  succeeded  most 
admirably,  and  I  fastened  the  Serapis,  with  my  own 
hands,  to  the  Richard.  On  this,  the  captain  of  the 
Countess  of  Scarborough,  who  was  a  natural  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  conducted  himself  like  a  man 
of  sense,  and  from  that  moment  ceased  to  fire  upon  us, 
well  knowing  that  he  must  at  the  same  time  damage  the 
Serapis. 

That  vessel  being  to  windward  at  the  moment  we 
had  grappled,  instantly  dropped  her  anchor,  hoping  by 
this  to  disengage  herself  from  us;  but  this  did  not  an 
swer  her  expectations,  and  the  engagement  from  that 
moment  consisted  of  the  discharge  of  great  guns,  swiv 
els,  musquetry,  and  grenades.  The  English  at  first  testi 
fied  a  desire  to  board  the  Richard,  but  they  no  sooner 
saw  the  danger  than  they  desisted.  The  enemy,  how 
ever,  possessed  the  advantage  of  their  two  batteries,  be 
sides  the  guns  on  their  forecastle  and  quarter-deck,  while 
our  cannon  was  either  burst  or  abandoned,  except  four 
pieces  on  the  forecastle,  which  were  also  relinquished 
during  some  minutes.  Mr.  Mease,  the  officer  who  com 
manded  these  guns,  had  been  dangerously  wounded  on 
the  head,  and  having,  at  that  period,  no  greater  object 
to  occupy  my  attention,  I  myself  took  his  post.  A  few 
sailors  came  to  my  assistance  of  their  own  accord,  and 
served  the  two  guns  next  to  the  enemy  with  surprising 
courage  and  address.  A  short  time  after  this,  I  received 
sufficient  assistance  to  be  able  to  remove  one  of  the 
forecastle  guns  from  the  opposite  side;  but  we  had  not 
strength  sufficient  to  remove  the  other,  so  that  we  could 
only  bring  three  guns  to  bear  upon  the  enemy  during  the 
remainder  of  the  action. 

The  moon,  which,  as  I  have  already  observed,  rose 
at  eight,  beheld  the  two  vessels  surrounded  by  flame,  in 
€onsequence  of  the  explosion  of  the  cannon.  It  so  hap 
pened  at  this  period,  that  the  mainmast  of  the  Serapis, 
which  was  painted  yellow,  appeared  extremely  distinct, 
so  as  to  form  an  excellent  mark ;  on  this  I  pointed  one 
of  my  guns  at  it,  taking  care  to  ram  home  the  shot.  In 


392  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

the  mean  time  the  two  other  pieces  were  admirably 

served  against  the and  swept  its  forecastle  by 

means  of  an  oblique  fire.  The  tops  also  seconded  us 
bravely,  by  means  of  musquetry  and  swivels,  and  also 
threw  a  multitude  of  grenades  so  as  greatly  to  annoy 
the  enemy.  By  these  means  they  were  driven  from  their 
quarters,  notwithstanding  their  superiority  in  point  of 
men  and  artillery. 

The  captain  of  the  Serapis,  after  consulting  with  his 
officers,  resolved  to  strike;  but  an  unlucky  accident, 
which  occurred  on  board  the  Richard,  prevented  this:  a 
bullet  having  destroyed  one  of  our  pumps,  the  carpenter 
was  seized  with  a  panic,  and  told  the  gunner,  and  ano 
ther  petty  officer,  that  we  were  sinking.  Some  one  ob 
served  at  the  same  time,  that  both  I  and  the  lieutenant 
were  killed;  in  consequence  of  which  the  gunner,  con 
sidering  himself  as  commanding  officer,  ran  instantly  to 
the  quarter-deck,  in  order  to  haul  down  the  American 
colors,  which  he  would  have  actually  hauled  down,  had 
not  the  flag-staff  been  carried  away  at  the  time  the 
Richard  grappled  with  the  Serapis. 

The  captain,  on  hearing  the  gunner  express  his  wishes 
to  surrender,  in  consequence  of  his  supposing  that  we 
were  sinking,  instantly  addressed  himself  to  me,  and  ex 
claimed,  "Do  you  ask  for  quarter? — Do  you  ask  for  quar 
ter?"  I  was  so  occupied,  at  this  period,  in  serving  the 
three  pieces  of  cannon  on  the  forecastle,  that  I  remain 
ed  totally  ignorant  of  what  had  occurred  on  deck ;  I  re 
plied,  however,  "I  do  not  dream  of  surrendering,  but  I  am 
determined  to  make  you  strike!" 

The  English  Commander,  however,  conceived  some 
faint  hopes,  in  consequence  of  what  had  been  said,  that 
the  Richard  was  actually  sinking;  but  when  he  perceiv 
ed  that  her  fire  did  not  diminish,  he  immediately  order 
ed  his  men  from  the  forecastle,  where  they  were  too 
much  exposed,  and  stationed  them  below,  where  they 
jcept  up  such  a  tremendous  discharge  against  the  Rich 
ard,  that  it  at  once  indicated  vengeance  and  despair. 

It  has  already  been  observed,  that  when  I  commenced 
the  action  the  Pallas  was  at  a  great  distance  to  wind* 
ward,  while  the  Alliance  lay  to  in  the  same  position. 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  '393 

When  the  captain  of  the  former  perceived  that  the 
engagement  took  place,  he  spoke  to  his  consort;  but  they 
lost  a  great  deal  of  time,  and  it  was  not  until  now,  that 
they  came  within  gun  shot  of  the  Countess  of  Scarbo 
rough,  and  a  kind  of  running  fight  took  place  between 
the  latter  and  the  Pallas.  The  Alliance  followed  them, 
and  on  passing  us,  fired  a  broadside,  which,  as  we  were 
closely  engaged  with  the  enemy,  did  no  more  harm  to 
them  than  to  us. 

The  battle  still  continued  with  uncommon  ardour  be 
tween  us  and  the  enemy,  whose or  burned,  and 

her  main-mast  cut  away,  by  degrees,  by  our  bullets; 
while  the  heavier  metal  of  the  Serapis  drove  in  one  of 
the  sides  of  my  ship,  and  met  with  little  or  no  resistance. 
la  short,  our  helm  was  rendered  useless,  and  the  poop 
was  only  supported  by  an  old  and  shattered  piece  of 
timber,  which  alone  prevented  it  from  giving  way. 

At  length,  after  a  short  engagement,  the  countess  of 
Scarborough  surrendered  to  the  Pallas;  it  was  then  that 
the  captain  of  the  latter  asked  the  commander  of  the 
Alliance,  "whether  he  would  take  charge  of  the  prize, 
or  sail  and  give  succour  to  the  commodore?"  On  this, 
the  Alliance  began  to  stand  backward  and  forward  un 
der  her  topsails,  until  having  got  to  the  windward,  she 
came  down,  and  discharged  a  second  broadside  against 
the  fore-part  of  the  Serapis,  and  the  hind-part  of  the 
Richard.  On  this  I  and  several  other  persons  begged 
for  God's  sake,  that  they  would  cease  firing,  and  send  a 
few  men  on  board  of  us:  but  he  disobeyed,  and  fired 
another  broadside  as  he  passed  along:  after  which  he 
kept 'at  a  most  respectful  distance,  and  took  great  care 
not  to  expose  himself  during  the  remainder  of  the  action, 
without  receiving  a  single  shot,  or  having  a  man  wound 
ed  during  the  whole  engagement. 

The  idea  that  we  were  sinking  had  taken  such  posses 
sion  of  the  armourer's  mind,  that  he  actually  opened  the 
scuttles,  and  made  all  the  prisoners,  to  the  number  of  a 
hundred, sally  forth,  in  opposition  to  my  reiterated  orders. 
This  event  might  have  proved  fatal,  had  I  not  taken  ad 
vantage  of  their  affright  to  station  them  at  the  pumps, 
where  they  displayed  surprising  zeal,  appearing  actually 

B  3 


394  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

to  forget  their  captivity  ;  for  there  was  nothing  to  prevent 
their  going  on  board  the  Senipis;  or,  it  was  in  their 
power  to  put  an  end  to  the  engagement  in  an  instant,  by 
either  killing  me,  or  throwing  me  into  the  sea. 

As  our  three  quarter-deck  guns  continued  to  play 
without  interruption  on  the  enemy,  raked  her  hinder 
parts,  and  damaged  her  mast  in  such  a  manner,  that  it 
was  only  supported  from  falling  by  the  yards  of  our  ship, 
while  the  tops  poured  in  a  continual  discharge;  the  fire 
of  the  English  began  to  deaden  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
bereave  them  of  all  hope  of  success. 

A  circumstance,  however,  occurred  that  contributed 
not  a  little  to  the  victory  of  the  Richard:  this  was  the 
extraordinary  intrepidity  and  presence  of  mind  of  a 
Scotch  sailor,  posted  in  the  main-top;  this  brave  fellow, 
of  his  own  accord,  seized  a  lighted  match,  and  a  basket 
of  hand-grenades,  with  which  he  advanced  along  the 
main-yard,  until  he  had  arrived  exactly  above  the  ene 
my's  deck.  As  the  flames  of  their  parapets  and  shrouds 
added  to  the  light  of  the  moon,  enabled  him  to  distin 
guish  objects,  the  moment  he  perceived  two  or  three 
persons  assembled  together,  he  instantly  discharged  a 
hand  grenade  among  them ;  he  had  even  address  enough 
to  drop  several  through  their  scuttles,  and  one  of  them 
set  fire  to  the  cartridge  of  an  eighteen  pounder  belonging 
to  the  lower  deck,  the  discharge  of  which  scorched  sev 
eral  of  the  crew. 

On  this,  the  captain  of  the  Serapis  came  upon  the 
quarter-deck,  lowered  his  flag,  and  asked  for  quarters, 
at  the  very  moment  his  main-mast  had  fallen  into  the 
sea.  He  then  came  on  board,  with  his  officers, and  pre 
sented  me  with  his  sword.  While  this  was  transacting, 
eight  or  ten  men  belonging  to  the  Richard  seized  on 
the  Serapis's  shallop,  which  had  been  at  anchor  during 
the  engagement,  and  made  off. 

It  was  more  than  eleven  o'clock  when  the  battle  end 
ed;  it  had  consequently  lasted  more  than  four  hours. — 
My  ship  had  no  more  than  322  men,  good,  bad,  and  in 
different,  on  board,  at  the  commencement  of  the  engage 
ment;  and  the  sixty  of  these,  posted  in  the  gun-room 
when  the  gun  burst,  having  been  of  no  further  service 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

Curing  the  action,  could  not  properly  be  considered  as 
forming  part  of  the  crew  opposed  to  the  Serapis,  which 
had  received  a  supply  of  English  sailors,  while  in  Den 
mark;  and  it  appeared,  indeed,  by  the  muster-roll,  that 
there  were  upwards  of  400  on  board  of  her,  when  the 
first  gun  was  fired.  Her  superiority  was  still  more  con 
siderable  in  respect  to  guns,  without  mentioning  her 
greater  weight  in  metrtl,  which  surpassed  ours  beyond 
all  comparison.  Thus,  setting  aside  the  damage  done 
by  the  Countess  of  Scarborough,  during  the  fore  part  of 
the  action,  and  also  by  three  broad-sides  from  the  Alli 
ance,  it  will  be  easy  to  form  a  due  judgment  of  the  com 
bat  between  the  Richard  and  the  Serapis,  and  set  a 
proper  value  on  a  victory  obtained  over  a  force  so  great- 
Jy  superior,  after  such  a  long,  bloody,  and  close  engage 
ment. 

The  Vengeance,  a  corvette,  mounting  twelve  three 
pounders,  and  the  boat  belonging  to  the  pilot,  with  my 
second  lieutenant,  another  officer,  and  ten  men,  would 
have  been  of  singular  service,  either  in  pursuing  and 
capturing  the  convoy,  or  by  reinforcing  me :  but,  strange 
as  it  may  appear,  the  fact  is,  that  they  remained  all  this 
time  mere,  spectators  of  the  action,  in  which  they  took 
no  interest,  keeping  themselves  to  windward,  and  out  of 
all  danger ;  while,  on  the  oiher  hand,  the  conduct  of  the 
Alliance  had,  at  least,  the  appearance  of  proceeding 
from  a  principle  worse  than  ignorance  or  insubordina 
tion. 

It  must  appear  clear,  from  what  has  been  already 
said,  that  if  the  enemy's  ports  were  not  annoyed,  the 
Baltic  fleet  taken,  and  the  eight  Indiamen  seized,  the 
blame  did  not  lie  with  me. 

It  is  but  justice,  however,  to  observe  that  some  of  my 
officers  conducted  themselves  admirably  during  the  ac 
tion.  The  lieutenant,  Mr.  Dale,  being  left  alone  at  the 
guns  below,  and  finding  he  could  not  rally  his  men, 
came  upon  deck,  and  superintended  the  working  of  the 
pumps,  notwithstanding  he  had  been  wounded.  Not 
withstanding  all  his  efforts,  the  hold  was  more  than  half 
full  of  water  when  the  enemy  surrendered. 


396  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

During  the  last  three  hours  of  the  action  both  the  ves 
sels  were  on  fire;  by  throwing  water  on  the  flames,  it 
was  sometimes  supposed  that  they  were  quenched,  but 
they  always  broke  forth  anew,  and,  on  the  close  of  the 
action  we  imagined  it  wholly  extinguished.  It  was  very 
calm  during  the  remainder  of  the  night;  but,  when  the 
wind  began  to  blow,  our  danger  became  imminent,  the 
lire  having  penetrated  the  timbers,  and  spread  until  it 
had  reached  within  a  few  inches  of  the  powder  maga 
zine.  On  this,  the  ammunition-was  brought  on  the  deck, 
to  be  thrown  in  the  sea,  in  case  of  extremity;  but  we,  at 
length,  succeeded  in  our  endeavours,  by  cutting  away  a 
few  planks,  and  employing  our  buckets. 

Next  morning  the  weather  was  hazy,  and  not  a  sail 
to  be  seen.  We  then  examined  the  Richard  to  see  if 
it  were  possible  to  carry  her  into  any  port.  This  pro 
ving  wholly  impracticable,  all  the  boats  were  employed 
in  carrying  the  wounded  on  board  the  other  vessels. — 
This  occupied  much  of  our  time,  and  on  the  succeeding 
day,  notwithstanding  all  our  pumps  had  been  at  work, 
the  hold  was  entirely  full  of  water,  and  the  vessel  soon 
after  sunk.  On  this  occasion  I  could  only  save  the  sig 
nal  flags,  and  I  lost  all  my  property,  amounting  to  more 
than  5,000  livres. 

On  this  I  instantly  assumed  the  command  of  the  Se- 
rapis,  on  which  we  erected  jury  masts;  but  the  sea  was 
so  tempestuous  that  it  was  ten  days  before  we  reached 
the  Texel. 

No  sooner  was  my  arrival  known  than  forty-two  ves 
sels,  forming  different  squadrons  of  frigates,  were  fitted 
out  from  the  various  ports  in  Great  Britain  against  me, 
and  two  of  these  were  stationed  during  three  months  at 
the  mouths  of  the  Texel  and  the  Fly.  My  situation  in 
Holland  influenced  not  a  little  the  conduct  of  the  belli 
gerent  powers,  at  the  same  time  that  it  excited  the  at 
tention  of  all  Europe.  The  English  minister  at  the 
Hague  addressed  different  memorials  to  the  states  gen 
eral,  in  all  which  he  insisted  that  the  Serapis  and  the 
Countess  of  Scarborough  "should  be  delivered  up  to  the 
king,  his  master;"  and  he,  at  the  same  time,  claimed  me 
under  the  appellation  of  "the  Scotch  pirate." 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  397 

Instead  of  listening  to  these  propositions,  the  states 
general  permitted  me  to  land  my  wounded  on  the  island 
of  the  Texel,  which  was  delivered  up  to  me  for  that 
purpose;  on  this  the  British  government  became  furiou5, 
and  Holland  was  reduced  to  so  critical  a  situation,  that 
the  states  were  under  the  necessity  of  insisting  that  I 
should  either  leave  the  Texel,  or  produce  a  commission 
from  his  most  Christian  majesty,  and  hoist  the  French 
flag. 

The  prince  of  Orange,  who  was  attached  to  the  En 
glish  interest,  sent  the  Vine- Admiral  Rhynst,  who  was 
also  English  in  his  heart,  to  assume  the  command  of  the 
Dutch  squadron  in  the  Texel,  composed  of  thirteen  two- 
deckers.  This  officer  drew  up  his  squadron,  during  six 
weeks,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  menace  us;  and,  in  short, 
did  every  thing  in  his  power  to  render  my  situation  both 
dangerous  and  disagreeable. 

In  the  mean  time  1  had  an  interview  with  the  Duke 
de  la  Vanguyon,  at  Amsterdam,  who  intimated  to  me, 
that  it  was  the  intention  of  the  king  of  France  that  I 
should  hoist  his  flag  during  my  stay  in  the  Texel,  as  he 
imagined  that  my  prizes  would  assuredly  fall  into  the 
enemy's  hands  if  I  tried  to  escape. — I,  however,  refused 
this  honor,  as  I  had  declared  myself  an  American  offi 
cer,  and  had  given  a  copy  of  my  commission  from  con 
gress  to  the  Dutch  admiral.  It  was  contrived,  however, 
at  length  that  I  should  go  on  board  the  frigate  Alliance, 
the  captain  of  which  had  been  sent  to  Paris,  to  give  an 
account  of  his  conduct,  and  where  I  should  still  carry 
my  former  colors,  while  the  prizes  should  hois^t  the 
French  flag. 

At  length  the  wind  becoming  favorable,  on  the  27th 
of  February,  1779,  the  Alliance  set  sail,  after  having 
lost  all  her  anchors,  one  only  excepted,  in  consequence 
of  Admiral  Rhynst's  instructions  to  the  pilot;  and  it 
was  at  least  an  hundred  to  one,  that  we  should  fall  in 
with  the  enemy.  I,  however,  had  the  good  fortune  to 
escape,  although  the  Alliance  passed  the  Straits  of  Do 
ver,  within  sight  of  the  English  squadron  in  the  Downs. 
After  getting  clear  of  the  Channel,  I  soon  reached  the 
latitude  of  Cape  Finisterre,  and  catered  the  port  of  Co- 
runna,  January  16,  1780. 


398  JOHN    PAUL    JONES. 

On  my  return  to  France,  I  found  that  the  French  eero* 
missary  had  made  a  private  sale  of  my  prizes  to  the 
king  without  consulting  me.  On  this  I  repaired  to  Ver- 
sailes,  along  with  Dr.  Franklin,  but  was  received  with 
great  coolness  by  the  minister  of  the  marine.  On  this 
account  I  declined  asking  him  to  present  me  to  his  ma 
jesty.  This  honor  was  conferred  on  me  next  day  by  the 
Prince  de  Beauvo,  captain  of  the  guards.  The  public 
received  me  at  the  opera,  and  all  the  public  places 
where  I  appeared,  with  the  most  lively  enthusiasm;  this 
added  to  the  very  favorable  reception  I  received  from 
his  majesty, afforded  me  singular  satisfaction:  and  the 
minister  of  the  marine  from  that  moment  paid  me  the 
most  marked  attention. 

The  Count  de  Maurepas  about  this  time  intimated  to 
me,  that  his  majesty  had  resolved  to  confer  some  distin 
guished  mark  of  his  bounty  and  personal  esteem  on  me; 
this  proved  to  be  a  sword,  mounted  with  gold,  on  which 
was  engraven  the  following  flattering  motto: — - 

VINDICATI    MARIS 

LUDOVICUS    XVI.    REMUNERATOR 

STRENUO    VIJs7DlCI. 

The  hilt  was  of  gold,  and  the  blade,  &c.  were  embla 
zoned  with  his  majesty's  arms,  the  attributes  of  war, 
and  an  emblematical  representation  of  the  alliance  be 
tween  France  and  America.  The  most  Christian  king, 
at  the  same  time,  transmitted  a  most  admirable  letter  to 
congress,  in  which  he  offered  to  decorate  me  with  the 
order  of  military  merit.  All  this  was  extremely  flatter 
ing,  as  Louis  XVI.  had  never  presented  a  sword  to  any 
other  officer,  and  never  conferred  the  cross,  except  on 
such  officers  as  were  invested  with  his  majesty's  com 
mission. 

The  minister  of  the  marine,  a  short  time  after  this, 
lent  me  the  Ariel,  a  king's  ship,  carrying  twenty  guns, 
with  which  I  sailed,  October  8th,  1780,  for  America. 
The  wind  was  at  first  favorable;  but  I  was  soon  after 
in  danger  of  foundering  on  the  Penmarks — and  escaped 
only  by  cutting  away  my  main  and  mizen  masts.  As 
soon  as  the  storm  abated,  we  erected  jury  masts,  and 


JOHN    PAUL    JONES.  399 

returned  to  refit;  in  short  it  was  the  18th  of  December 
before  I  could  proceed  for  Philadelphia. 

During  the  voyage,  I  fell  in  with  an  English  twenty 
gun  ship,  called  the  Triumph,  and  partly  by  stratagem, 
and  partly  by  hard  fighting,  forced  her  to  strike  her  flag; 
but  while  we  were  about  to  take  possession  of  her,  the 
Captain,  taking  advantage  of  her  superior  sailing,  made 
off  anJ  escaped. 

On  my  arrival  in  America,  the  congress,  on  the  rep 
resentation  of  the  Chevalier  De  la  Luzerne,  passed  a 
law  to  enable  me  to  accept  the  military  order  of  France. 
The  French  minister,  on  this  occasion,  gave  an  enter 
tainment,  to  which  all  the  members  of  congress,  and  the 
principal  inhabitants  of  Philadelphia,  were  invited; 
after  which  I  was  invested,  in  their  presence,  with  the 
decorations  of  the  order. 

As  the  three  ministers  plenipotentiary  from  America 
had  unfortunately  disagreed,  it  necessarily  follows  that 
there  would  be  some  contradiction  in  respect  to  their 
reports  concerning  me.  In  consequence  of  this,  the 
congress  enjoined  the  admiralty  to  inquire  into  the 
nature  of  my  connexion  with  the  court  of  France,  and 
the  reasons  which  had  induced  me  to  remain  in  Europe, 
and  delay  the  convoy  of  the  military  stores  appertain 
ing  to  the  United  States.  In  consequence  of  the  exam 
ination  that  ensued,  and  the  report  that  was  delivered 
in,  the  congress  passed  an  act,  dated  April  14, 1781,  in 
which  I  was  thanked,  in  the  most  flattering  manner,  4for 
the  zeal,  the  prudence,  and  the  intrepidity,  with  which  I 
had  sustained  the  honour  of  the  American  flag;  for  my 
bold  and  successful  enterprises,  with  a  view  to  redeem 
from  captivity  the  citizens  of  America,  who  had  fallen 
into  the  power  of  the  English,  and  for  the  eminent  ser 
vices  by  which  I  had  added  lustre  to  my  own  character 
and  the  arms  of  America.'  A  committee  of  congress 
was  also  of  opinion,  'that  I  deserved  a  gold  medal  in 
remembrance  of  my  services.' 

On  the  21st  of  June,  1781,1  was  appointed,  by  an 
unanimous  vote  of  congress,  to  the  command  of  the 
America,  a  seventy-four  gun  ship,  then  building;  and  on 
the  birth  of  the  Dauphin,  I.  at  my  own  expense,  cele- 


400  JOHN    PAUL   JONES. 

brated  that  happy  event  by  royal  salutes  during  the  day, 
and  a  brilliant  illumination  in  the  evening,  accompanied 
by  fire-works. 

An  unfortunate  accident,  soon  after  this,  deprived  me 
of  the  command  of  that  fine  vessel ;  for  the  JUagnifique, 
of  74  guns,  belonging  to  the  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil's 
fleet,  happening  to  be  lost  at  Boston,  the  congress  seized 
on  this  occasion  to  testify  its  gratitude  to  his  most  Chris 
tian  majesty,  by  presenting  him  with  the  America  to 
replace  her. 

In  the  mean  time,  it  was  resolved  to  place  a  French 
frigate  rindienne,  with  two  or  three  armed  vessels  under 
my  orders,  in  order  to  seize  on  Bermudas;  but,  as  this 
was  never  put  into  execution,  I  applied  to  congress  for 
leave  to  serve  on  board  the  fleet  of  the  Count  d'Estaing, 
then  destined  for  an  expedition  against  Jamaica. 

The  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil  received  me  with  great 
distinction  on  board  his  own  ship,  the  Triumphant,  where 
I  occupied  the  same  cabin  as  the  Baron  de  Viomenil. 
who  commanded  the  land  forces.  When  we  were 
within  sight  of  Porto  Rico,  intelligence  was  received, 
that  Admirals  Pigot  and  Hood  were  preparing  to  inter 
cept  us;  and  as  Don  Solano,  with  the  Spanish  fleet,  did 
not  meet  us  at  Porto  Cabello,  according  to  his  promise, 
many  of  the  officers,  becoming  disgusted  with  the  en 
terprise,  fell  sick,  and  I  myself  was  in  a  dangerous  state; 
but  we  were  relieved  from  our  disagreeable  situation, 
by  intelligence  from  Europe  that  a  general  peace  had 
taken  place.  This  circumstance  afforded  me  great 
pleasure;  as  1  now  learned  that  Great  Britain,  after  a 
long  and  bloody  contest,  had  been  forced  to  recognise 
the  sovereignty  and  independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America. 

On  this,  we  repaired  to  St.  Domingo,  where  I  received 
every  possible  mark  of  esteem  from  Mr.  De  Bellecomb, 
the  governor;  after  a  short  stay,  I  embarked  for  Phila 
delphia,  penetrated  with  gratitude  for  the  various  marks 
of  esteem  I  had  received  from  all  the  French  officers, 
during  the  five  months  1  had  been  on  board  his  majesty's 
squadron. 


JOHN     BAKRY.  401 

I  was  unable  to  re-establish  my  health,  during  the 
rest  of  the  summer,  which  I  spent  in  Pennsylvania;  and 
I  did  not  get  well  until  the  autumn,  when  I  recovered  by 
means  of  the  cold  bath. 

I  then  demanded  permission  to  return  to  Europe,  on 
purpose  to  recover  the  prize  money  due  to  myself,  officers 
and  sailors,  which  was  granted  me  by  an  act  of  congress, 
dated  at  Prince-Town,  November  1,  1783. 

On  this,  1  embarked  at  Philadelphia,  on  board  a  pack 
et  boat  destined  for  Havre  de  Grace;  but  being  forced 
into  Plymouth  by  contrary  winds,  I  took  post-horses  for 
London,  and  then  set  out  for  Paris,  and  was  received 
with  great  cordiality  by  the  ministry. 

I  laving  at  length  received  from  the  court  of  France 
the  amount  of  the  prizes,  I  returned  to  America  on  hoard 
a  French  packet-boat. 


JOHN  BARRY, 

Commodore  ia  the  American  Nayy. 

"THE  father  of  the  commodore  was  a  respectable  far 
mer  in  the  county  of  VVexford,  Ireland,  where  his  son, 
the  subject  of  this  memoir,  was  born,  in  the  year  1745. 
After  having  received  the  first  elements  of  an  English 
education,  to  gratify  his  particular  inclination  for  the 
sea,  his  father  entered  him  into  the  merchant  service. 
When  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  he  arrived  ia  Pennsyl 
vania,  and  selected  it  as  the  country  of  his  future  resi 
dence.  \N  ith  the  circumstances  which  induced  him  to 
leave  his  native  land,  and  take  up  his  abode  in  a  foreign 
country,  we  are  not  acquainted.  Of  this,  however,  we 
are  certain,  that  tiiey  cannot  have  been,  in  the  least, 
injurious  to  his  character;  as  we  find  that  in  the  capitol 
of  the  British  provinces,  in  the  northern  section  of  the 
wegtern  hemisphere,  he  was,  for  a  number  of  years,  in 
the  employment  of  many  of  the  most  respectable  mer 
chants,  of  whose  unlimited  confidence  he  ever  retained 
the  full  possession.  Among  the  many  gentlemen  in 
whose  service  he  was,  Messrs.  Meredith,  Welling  and 
Morris,  and  Nixon,  stand  most  conspicuous.  The  ship 
Black  Prince,  a  very  valuable  vessel,  belonging  to  Mr. 

C3 


402  JOHN     BARKY. 

Nixon,  engaged  in  the  London  trade,  was  commanded 
by  him,  at  the  commencement  of  the  American  Revolu 
tion;  but  was  shortly  after  purchased  by  Congress,  and 
converted  into  a  vessel  of  war. 

In  reviewing  the  causes  which  led  to  hostilities 
between  Great  Britain  and  her  colonies,  Barry  was  sat 
isfied  that  justice  was  on  the  side  of  the  latter,  lie 
therefore  engaged  under  the  banners  of  freedom,  and  re 
solved  to  devote  his  best  exertions  to  the  emancipation 
of  the  colonies  from  the  thraldom  of  the  mother  country. 
Confiding  in  his  patriotism,  congress,  in  February 
1776,  a  few  months  prior  to  the  declaration  of  indepen 
dence,  appointed  him  commander  of  the  brig  Lexington, 
of  sixteen  guns,  and  his  was  the  first  continental  vessel, 
which  sailed  from  the  port  of  Philadelphia.  His  era 
ses  were  successful.  Congress  had  caused  to  be  built 
three  large  frigates,  one  of  which  was  called  the  Efti-ng- 
7iam,  to  the  command  of  which  he  was  appointed  im 
mediately  after  that  memorable  a3ra,  which  gave  to  ihe 
United  States  a  name  among  the  nations  of  the  world. 
During  the  following  winter,  as  his  naval  employment 
became  nugatory,  in  consequence  of  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather,  he,  from  an  averson  to  inactivity,  became  a 
volunteer  aid,  in  that  season  of  peril,  to  the  intrepid  Gen. 
Cadvvallader. 

The  city  of  Philadelphia,  and  forts  on  the  Delaware 
fell  into  the.  hands  of  the  British,  in  the  following  year, 
1777;  and  Commodore  Barry,  with  several  vessels  of 
\var,  made  good  his  retreat  up  the  river,  as  far  as  White- 
hill,  where,  however,  they  were  afterward  destroyed  by 
the  enemy. 

Prior  to  the  destruction  of  these  vessels,  he  success 
fully  employed  those  under  his  command  in  annoying  the 
enemy,  and  cutting  off  the  supplies. 

After  the  destruction  of  the  American  squadron,  and 
soon  after  the  capture  of  Philadelphia,  he  was  appoint 
ed  to  command  the  Raleigh,  of  thirty-two  guns,  which, 
on  a  cruise,  was  inn  on  shore  by  a  British  squadron  on 
Fox  Island,  in  Penobscot  Bay. 

Subsequent  to  the  above  disasters,  he  commanded  a 
vessel  commissioned  with  letters  of  marque  and  repri 
sal,  and  engaged  in  the  West  India  trade  for  some  time. 


JOHN    BARRY.  402 

When  congress  concluded  to  build  a  74  gun  ship  in 
New-Hampshire,  he  was  ordered  to  command  her.  It 
WHS,  however,  afterward  determined  to  make  a  present 
oi'  this  vessel  to  his  most  Christian  majesty,  when  that 
august  body  gave  him  the  command  of  the  Alliance 
frigate. 

The  situation  of  American  affairs  becoming  impor 
tant,  in  a  foreign  point  of  view,  Col.  John  Laurens,  of 
South  Carolina,  son  of  Henry  Laurens,  then  a  prisoner  in 
the  Tower  of  London,  was  ordered  to  France  on  a  spe 
cial  mission.  Commodore  Barry  sailed  in  the  Alliance 
from  Boston  for  L ''Orient,  in  February,  1781,  having  the 
minister  extraordinary  and  suit  on  board.  After  landing 
the  ambassador  and  suite  at  L*Orient,in  the  early  part 
of  the  same  year,  the  Alliance  sailed  on  a  cruise. 

On  the  29th  of  May  following,  at  day-light,  Commo 
dore  Barry  discovered  a  ship  and  a  brig  on  his  weather- 
bow,  appearing  afterward  to  wear  the  British  flag.  He 
consequently  prepared  for  immediate  action.  The 
British  ship  proved  to  be  the  Atalanta,  Captain  Ed 
wards,  of  between  twenty  and  thirty  guns,  and  the  brig 
Treposa,  Captain  Smith.  An  action  shortly  commenced, 
and  by  three,  P.  M.  both  vessels  struck.  Barry  was 
wounded  early  in  the  engagement;  but  notwithstanding 
his  sufferings,  in  consequence  of  this  casualty,  he  still 
remained  on  deck,  and  it  was  owing  to  his  intrepidity 
and  presence  of  mind,  that  the  Alliance  was  the  victor. 

On  December  25,  1781,  he  sailed  in  the  Alliance  for 
France,  from  Boston,  having  on  board  the  Marquis  de 
la  Fayette,  and  Count  de  Noailles,  who  were  desirous  of 
going  to  their  country,  on  business  of  the  highest  impor 
tance.  He  had  scarcely  arrived  at  his  destined  port, 
(L'Orient,)  than  he  sailed  in  February,  1782,  on  a  cruise, 
during  which  he  fell  in  with  an  enemy's  ship  of  equal 
size,  and  had  a  severe  engagement.  The  enemy  would 
have  been  captured,  had  it  not  been  for  two  consorts,, 
which,  however,  were  kept  at  a  distance  during  the  ac 
tion,  by  a  French  fifty  gun  ship,  which  hove  in  sight. — 
The  continental  ship  Luzerne,  of  twenty  guns,  had  her 
guns  thrown  overboard  before  the  battle  began,  in  order 
to  facilitate  her  escape,  as  she  had  a  quantity  of  specie. 


404  JOHN    BARRY. 

on  board  from  Havanna,for  the  use  of  the  United  States 
The  captain  of  the  British  frigate,  who  was  soon  after 
advanced  to  be  vice-admiral  of  the  red,  acknowledged 
that  lie  had  never  received  a  more  severe  flagellation 
than  on  this  occasion,  although  it  seemed  to  have  had 
the  appearance  of  a  drawn  battle. 

During  the  time  that  General  Lord  Howe  was  the 
British  commander  in  chief,  he  attempted  to  alienate 
the  commodore  from  the  cause  which  he  had  so  ardently 
espoused,  by  an  offer  of  20,000  guineas,  and  the  com 
mand  of  the  best  frigate  in  the  British  navy;  but  he 
rejected  the  offer  with  scorn.  The  return  of  peace, 
however,  in  the  year  1783,  put  an  end  to  all  such  dis 
honourable  propositions,  and  our  commodore  returned  to 
private  life. 

In  the  treaty  of  Paris,  1783,  there  was  an  article  pro 
hibiting  the  United  Slates  from  building  vessels  of  war 
during  the  term  of  twelve  years.  At  the  expiration  of 
this  limitation,  however,  our  government  conceived 
themselves  to  be  on  the  eve  of  a  war  with  Great  Britain, 
in  consequence  of  the  celebrated  corn  order  of  the  privy 
council  of  1793,  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  starving 
France,  and  the  subsequent  aggressions  on  American 
commerce.  These  apprehensions  gave  birth  to  a  law 
for  creating  a  navy,  to  the  command  of  which  Commo 
dore  Barry  was  designed.  The  treaty  of  1795,  howev 
er,  prevented  the  law  from  being  carried  into  full  execu 
tion,  although  Mr.  Barry,  in  consequence  of  that  law, 
was  retained  in  service. 

That  the  United  States  were  under  great  obligations 
to  France  for  the  aid  she  lent  them,  during  their  strug 
gle  for  liberty  and  independence,  is  a  fact  which  few 
will  deny;  and  the  extent  of  these  obligations  was  fully 
expressed  in  the  treaty  between  the  two  countries  in 
177JJ.  It  was,  therefore,  a  matter  of  surprise  to  many, 
who  have  not,  till  this  day,  called  in  question  the  integ 
rity  of  the  illustrious  man,  who  then  directed  the  desti 
nies  of  our  nation,  to  find  that  lie  had  issued  a  procla 
mation,  enjoining  a  strict  neutrality,  as  if  no  compact 
between  the  two  governments  had  ever  existed.  He 
was,  however,  unquestionably  actuated  by  the  purest 


NICHOLAS  BIDDLE.  405 

motive,  and  must  have  thought  that  the  steps  which  he 
had  taken  would  promote  the  interest  of  his  country. 

In  1797,  it  was  deemed  proper  by  the  American  gov 
ernment,  from  some  cause  not  generally  known,  or  expli- 
citlv  avowed,  to  annul  the  consular  convention  with 
France;  the  pretext  for  which  was  French  aggression 
on  the  American  commerce.  During  the  maritime  dis 
turbance  thus  created  between  the  two  countries,  Mr. 
Barry  was  actively  engaged  in  protecting  the  commerce 
of  his  adopted  country,  and  was  held  in  the  highest  es 
timation  by  his  nautical  brethren.  When  this  dispute 
was  at  last  satisfactorily  adjusted,  a  law  was  passed, 
during  the  last  year  of  Mr.  Adams's  administration,  for 
reducing  the  navy ;  in  consequence  of  which  the  vessel 
he  commanded  was  laid  up  in  ordinary,  and  he  once 
more  returned  to  pivate  life. 

Bold,  brave,  and  enterprising,  he  was,  at  the  same 
time,  humane  and  generous.  He  was  a  good  citizen, 
and  greatly  esteemed  by  all  who  had  the  pleasure  of  his 
acquaintance.  His  person  was  above  the  ordinary  size, 
graceful  and  commanding;  his  deportment  dignified,  and 
his  countenance  expressive. 

He  died  in  Philadelphia,  on  the  30th  of  September, 
1803,  and  a  vast  concourse  of  his  fellow-citizens  testified 
their  respect  to  his  memory,  by  attending  his  remains  to 
the  silent  grave."* 


NICHOLAS  BIDDLE, 

Commodore  in  the  American  Navy. 

"CAPTAIN  BIDDLE  was  born  in  the  city  of  Philadel 
phia,  in  the  year  1750.  Among  the  brave  men  who 
perished  in  the  glorious  struggle  for  the  independence  of 
America,  Capt.  Biddle  holds  a  distinguished  rank.  His 
services  and  the  high  expectations  raised  by  his  military 
genius  and  gallantry,  have  left  a  strong  impression  of 
his  merit,  and  a  profound  regret  that  his  early  fate 
should  have  disappointed  so  soon  the  hopes  of  his 
country. 

*  Wilson's  Amer.   Biography. 


406  NICHOLAS  BIDDLE. 

Very  early  in  life  he  manifested  a  partiality  for  the 
sea,  and  before  the  age  of  fourteen  he  had  nmde  a  voyage 
to  Quebec.  In  the  following  year,  1765,  he  sailed  from 
Philadelphia  to  Jamaica,  and  the  Bay  of  Honduras. — 
The  vessel  left  the  Bay  in  the  latter  end  of  December, 
1765,  bound  to  Antigua,  and  on  the  second  day  of  Jan. 
in  a  heavy  gale  of  wind,  she  was  cast  away,  on  a  shoal, 
called  the  Northern  Triangles.  After  remaining  two 
nights  and  a  day  upon  the  wreck,  the  crew  took  to  their 
yawl,  the  long-boat  having  been. lost,  and  with  great 
difficulty  and  hazard,  landed  on  one  of  the  small  unin- 
haoited  islands,  about  three  leagues  distant  from  the 
reef,  upon  which  they  struck.  Here  they  staid  a  few 
davs.  Some  provisions  were  procured  from  the  wreck, 
and  their  boats  was  refitted.  As  it  was  too  small  to 
carry  them  all  off,  they  drew  lots  to  determine  who 
should  remain,  and  young  Biddle  was  among  the  number. 
He.  and  his  three  companions,  suffered  extreme  hard 
ships  for  want  of  provisions  and  good  water;  and,  al 
though  various  efforts  were  made  for  their  relief,  it  was 
.nearly  two  months  before  they  succeeded. 

Such  a  scene  of  dangers  and  sufferings  in  the  com 
mencement  of  his  career,  would  have  discouraged  a 
youth  of  ordinary  enterprise  and  perseverance.  On  him 
it  produced  no  such  effect.  The  coolness  and  prompti 
tude  with  which  he  acted,  in  the  midst  of  perils  that 
alarmed  the  eldest  seamen,  gave  a  sure  presage  of  the 
force  of  his  character,  and  after  he  had  returned  home, 
he  made  several  European  voyages,  in  which  he  ac 
quired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  seamanship. 

In  the  year  1770,  when  a  war  between  Great  Britain 
and  Spain  was  expected,  in  consequence  of  the  dispute 
relative  to  Falkland's  Island,  he  went  to  London,  in  or 
der  to  enter  into  the  British  navy.  He  took  with  him 
letters  of  recommendation  from  Thomas  Willing,  Esq. 
to  his  brother-in-law,  Capt.  Sterling,  on  board  of  whose 
ship  he  served  for  some  time  as  a  midshipman.  The 
dispute  with  Spain  being  accommodated  he  intended  to 
leave  the  navy,  but  was  persuaded  by  Capt.  Sterling  to 
remain  in  the  service,  promising  that  he  would  use  all 
his  interest  to  get  him  promoted.  His  ardent  mind. 


NICHOLAS    BIDDLE,  407 

however,  cenld  not  rest  satisfied  with  the  inactivity  of 
his  situation,  which  he  was  impatient  to  change  for  one 
more  suited  to  his  disposition. 

In  the  year  1773,  a  voyage  of  discovery  was  underta 
ken,  at  the  request  of  the  Royal  Society,  in  order  to 
ascertain  how  far  navigation  was  practicable  towards 
the  North  Pole,  to  advance  the  discovery  of  a  north-west 
passage  into  the  south  seas,  and  to  make  such  astro 
nomical  observations  as  might  prove  serviceable  to  nav 
igation. 

Two  vessels,  the  Race  Horse  and  Carcase  were  fitted 
out  for  the  expedition,  the  command  of  which  was  given 
to  Capt.  Phipps,  afterward  Lord  Mulgrave.  The  pe 
culiar  dangers  to  which  such  an  undertaking  was  expo 
sed,  induced  the  government  to  take  extraordiny  pre 
cautions  in  fitting  out  arid  preparing  the  vessels,  and 
selecting  the  crews,  and  a  positive  order  was  issued  that 
no  boys  should  be  received  on  board. 

To  the  bold  and  enterprising  spirit  of  young   Biddle, 
such  an  expedition  had  great  attractions.     Extremely 
anxious  to  join  it,  he   endeavored  to  procure  Captain 
Sterling's  permission  for  that  purpose,  but  he  was  unwil 
ling  to  part  with  him,  and  would  not  consent  to  let  him 
go.     The  temptation  was,  however,  irresistible.     Here- 
solved  to  go,  and  laying  aside  his  uniform,  he  entered  on 
board  the   Carcase   before  the  mast.     When    he  first 
went  on  board,  he  was  observed  by  a  seaman  who  had 
known  him  before  and  was  very  much  attached  to  him. 
The  honest  fellow,  thinking  that  he  must  have  been  de 
graded   and   turned    before  the  mast  in   disgrace,  was 
greatly  affected  at  seeing  him,  but  he  was  equally  sur 
prised  and   pleased  when  he  learned  the  true  cause  of 
the  young  officer's   disguise,  and    he  kept   his  secret 
as  he  was   requested   to  do.     Impel  ed   by  the   same 
spirit,  young   Horatio,  afterward  Lord  Nelson,  has  so 
licited    and   obtained    permission    to  enter  on    board 
the  same  vessel.     These  youthful  adventurers  are  both 
said  to  have  been  appointed  cockswains,  a  station  al 
ways  assigned   to  the  most   active  and  trusty   seamen. 
The  particulars  of  this  expedition  are  well  known  to  the 
public.    These  intripid  navigators  penetrated  as  far  as 


408  NICHOLAS    BIDDLE. 

the  latitude  of  eighty-one  degrees  and  thirty-nine  min 
utes,  and  they  were  at  one  time  enclosed  with  moun 
tains  of  ice,  and  their  vessels  rendered  almost  immovea- 
ble  for  five  days,  at  the  hazard  of  instant  destruction. 
Capt.  Biddle  kept  a  journal  of  his  voyage,  which  was 
afterward  lost  with  him. 

The  commencement  of  the  revolution  gave  a  new- 
turn  to  his  pursuits,  and  he  repaired,  without  delay,  to 
the  standard  of  his  country.  When  a  rupture  between 
England  and  America  appeared  inevitable,  he  returned 
to  Philadelphia,  and  soon  after  his  arrival,  he  was  ap 
pointed  to  the  command  of  the  Camden  galley,  fitted  for 
the  defence  of  the  Delaware.  He  found  this  too  inac 
tive  a  service, and  when  the  fleet  was  preparing,  under 
Commodore  Hopkins,  for  an  expedition  against  New- 
Providence,  he  applied  for  a  command  in  the  fleet,  and 
was  immediately  appointed  commander  of  the  Andrew 
Doria,  a  brig  of  14  guns  and  130  men.  Paul  Jones,  who 
was  then  a  lieutenant,  and  was  going  on  the  expedition, 
was  distinguished  by  Captain  Biddle,  and  introduced  to 
his  friends  as  an  officer  of  merit. 

Before  he  sailed  from  the  Capes  of  Delaware,  an  in 
cident  occurred,  which  marked  his  personal  intrepidity. 
Hearing  that  two  deserters  from  his  vessel  were  at  Lew- 
istown  in  prison,  an  officer  was  sent  on  shore  for  them, 
but  he  returned  with  information  that  the  two  men,  with 
some  others,  had  armed  themselves,  barricadoed  the 
door,  and  swore  they  would  not  be  taken;  that  the  mili 
tia  of  the  town  had  been  sent  for,  but  were  afraid  to 
open  the  door,  the  prisoners  threatening  to  shoot  the 
first  man  who  entered.  Captain  Biddle  immediately 
went  to  the  prison,  accompanied  by  a  midshipman,  and 
calling  to  one  of  the  deserters,  whose  name  wasGreen,  a 
stout,  resolute  fellow, ordered  him  to  open  the  door;  he 
replied  that  he  would  not, and  if  he  attempted  toenter  he 
would  shoot  him.  He  then  ordered  the  door  to  be  forced, 
entering  singly,  with  a  pistol  in  each  hand,  he  called  to 
Green,  who  was  prepared  to  fire,  and  said,  "Now  Green, 
if  you  do  not  take  good  airn,youare  a  dead  man."  Daun 
ted  by  his  manner,  their  resolution  failed,  and  the  militia 
Doming,  secured  them.  They  afterward  declared  to  the 


NICHOLAS  BIDDLE.  409 

officer  who  furnishes  this  account,  that  it  was  Captain 
Biddle's  look  and  manner  which  had  awed  them  into 
submission,  for  that  they  had  determined  to  kill  him  as 
soon  as  he  came  into  the  room. 

Writing  from  the  Capes  to  his  brother,  the  late  Judge 
Biddle,  he  says,  "I  know  not  what  may  be  our  fate:  be 
it,  however,  what  it  may,  you  may  rest  assured,  I  will 
never  cause  a  blush  on  the  cheeks  of  my  friends  or 
countrymen."  Soon  after  they  sailed,  the  small-pox 
broke  out  and  raged  with  great  violence  in  the  fleet^ 
which  was  manned  chiefly  by  New-England  seaman. 
The  humanity  of  Captain  Biddle,  always  prompt  and 
active,  was  employed  on  this  occasion  to  alleviate  the 
general  distress,  by  all  the  means  in  his  own  power. — 
His  own  crew,  which  was  from  Philadelphia,  being  se 
cure  against  the  distemper,  he  took  on  board  great 
numbers  of  the  sick  from  the  other  vessels.  Every  part 
of  his  vessel  was  crowded,  the  long-boat  was  fitted  for 
their  accommodation,  and  he  gave  up  his  own  cot  to  a 
young  midshipman,  on  whom  he  bestowed  the  greatest 
attention  till  his  death.  In  the  mean  while  he  slept 
himself  upon  the  lockers,  refusing  the  repeated  solicata- 
tions  of  his  officers,  to  accept  their  births.  On  their 
arrival  at  New-Providence,  it  surrendered  without  op 
position.  The  crew  of  the  Andrew  Dona,  from  their 
crowded  situation,  became  sick,  and  before  she  left 
Providence,  there  were  not  men  enough,  capable  of  doing 
duty,  to  man  the  boats;  Captain  Biddle  visited  them 
every  day,  and  ordered  every  necessary  refreshment, 
but  they  continued  sickly  until  they  arrived  at  New- 
London. 

After  refitting  at  New-London,  Captain  Biddle  re 
ceived  orders  to  proceed  off  the  banks  of  Newfoundland^ 
in  order  to  intercept  the  transports  and  store  ships  bound 
to  Boston.  Before  he  reached  the  banks,  he  captured 
two  ships  from  Scotland,  with  400  highland  troops  on 
board,  destined  for  Boston.  At  this  time  the  Andrew 
Doria  had  not  100  men.  Lieutenant  Josiah,  a  brave 
and  excellent  officer,  was  put  on  board  one  of  the  prizes, 
with  ail  the  highland  officers,  and  ordered  to  make  the 
first  port.  Unfortunately,  about  ten  days  afterward,  he 

D3 


4JU  NICHOLAS  BIDDLE. 

was  taken  by  the  Cerberus  frigate,  and,  on  pretence  of 
his  being  an  Englishman,  he  was  ordered  to  do  duty,  and 
extremely  ill  used.  Captain  Biddle,  hearing  of  the  ill 
treatment  of  Lieutenant  Josiah,  wrote  to  "the  admiral  at 
New-York,  that,  however  disagreeable  it  was  to  him.  he 
would  treat  a  young  man  of  family,  believed  to  be  a  son 
of  Lord  Crasion,  who  was  then  his  prisoner,  in  the 
manner  they  treated  Lieutenant  Josiah. 

He  also  applied  to  his  own  government  in  behalf  of 
this  injured  officer,  and  by  the  proceedings  of  congress, 
on  the  7th  of  August,  1776,  it  appears,  "that  a  letter 
from  Captain  Nicholas  Biddle  to  the  marine  committee, 
was  laid  before  congress  and  read :  whereupon.  Resolved, 
That  General  Washington  he  directed  to  propose  an 
exchange  of  Lieutenant  Josiah ;  for  a  lieutenant  of  the 
navy  of  Great  Britain:  that  the  general  remonstrate  to 
Lord  Howe  on  the  cruel  treatment  Lieutenant  Josiah 
has  met  with,  of  which  the  congress  have  received  un 
doubted  information."  Lieutenant  Josiah  was  exchang 
ed,  after  an  imprisonment  of  ten  months.  After  the 
capture  of  the  ships  with  the  Highlanders,  such  was 
Captain  Biddle's  activity  and  success  in  taking  prizes, 
that  when  he  arrived  in  the  Delaware,  he  had  but  five 
of  the  crew  with  which  he  sailed  from  New-London, 
the  rest  having  been  distributed  among  the  captured 
vessels,  and  their  places  supplied  by  men  who  had  en 
tered  from  the  prizes.  He  had  a  great  number  of  pris 
oners,  so  that,  for  some  days  before  he  got  in,  he  never 
left  the  deck. 

While  he  was  thus  indefatigably  engaged  in  weaken 
ing  the  enemy's  power,  and  advancing  his  country's  in 
terest,  he  was  disinterested  and  generous  in  all  that 
related  to  his  private  advantage.  The  brave  and  wor 
thy  opponent,  whom  the  chance  of  war  had  thrown  in 
his  power,  found  in  him  a  patron  and  a  friend,  who,  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  was  known  to  restore  to  the 
vanquished  the  fruits  of  victory. 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1776,  Captain  Biddle 
was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  Randolph,  a 
frigate  of  thirty-two  guns.  With  his  usual  activity,  he 
employed  every  exertion  to  get  her  ready  for  sea.  The 


NICHOLAS  BIDDLE,  411 

difficulty  of  procuring  American  seamen  at  that  time 
obliged  him,  in  order  to  man  his  ship,  to  take  a  number 
of  British  seamen,  who  were  prisoners  of  war,  and  who 
had  requested  leave  to  enter. 

The  Randolph  sailed  from  Philadelphia,  in  February, 
1777.  Soon  after  she  got  to  sea,  her  lower  masts  were 
discovered  to  be  unsound,  and,  in  a  heavy  gale  of  wind, 
all  her  masts  went  by  the  board.  While  they  were 
bearing  away  for  Charleston,  the  English  sailors,  with 
some  others  of  the  crew,  formed  a  design  to  take  the 
ship.  When  all  was  ready,  they  gave  three  cheers  on 
the  gun-deck.  By  the  decided  and  resolute  conduct  of 
Capt.  Biddle  and  his  officers,  the  ringleaders  were  seized 
and  punished,  and  the  rest  submitted  without  farther  re 
sistance.  After  refitting  at  Charleston  as  speedily  as 
possible,  he  sailed  on  a  cruise,  and  three  days  after  he 
left  the  bar,  he  fell  in  with  four  sail  of  vessels  bound 
from  Jamaica  to  London.  One  of  them,  called  the 
True  Briton,  mounted  twenty  guus.  The  commander  of 
her,  who  had  frequently  expressed  to  his  passengers  his 
hopes  of  falling  in  with  the  Randolph,  as  soon  as  he 
perceived  her,. made  all  the  sail  he  could  from  her,  but 
finding  he  could  not  escape,  he  hove  to,  and  kept  up  a 
constant  fire,  until  the  Randolph  had  bore  down  upon 
him,  and  was  preparing  for  a  broadside,  when  he  hauled 
down  his  colours.  By  her  superior  sailing,  the  Ran 
dolph  was  enabled  to  capture  the  rest  of  the  vessels, 
and  in  one  week  from  the  time  he  sailed  from  Charleston, 
Captain  Biddle  returned  there  with  his  prizes,  which 
proved  to  be  very  valuable. 

Encouraged  by  his  spirit  and  success,  the  state  of 
South  Carolina  made  exertions  for  fitting  out  an  expe 
dition  under  his  command.  His  name,  and  the  personal 
attachment  to  him,  urged  forward  a  crowd  of  volunteers 
to  serve  with  him,  and  in  a  short  time,  the  ship  General 
Moultrie,  the  brigs  Fair  American,  and  Polly,  and  the 
Notre  Dame,  were  prepared  for  sea.  A  detachment  of 
fifty  men  from  the  first  regiment  of  South  Carolina  con 
tinental  infantry,  were  ordered  to  act  as  marines  on 
board  the  Randolph.  Such  was  the  attachment  which 
the  honourable  and  amiable  deportment  of  Captain 


412  NICHOLAS  BIDDLE. 

Biddle  had  impressed  during  his  stay  at  Charleston,  and 
such  the  confidence  inspired  by  his  professional  conduct 
and  valour,  that  a  general  emulation  pervaded  the  corps 
to  have  tiie  honour  of  serving  under  his  command.  The 
tour  of  duty,  after  a  generous  competition  among  the 
officers,  was  decided  to  Captain  Joor,  and  Lieutenants 
Grey  and  Simmons,  whose  gallant  conduct,  and  that  of 
their  brave  detachment,  did  justice  to  the  high  character 
of  the  regiment.  As  soon  as  the  Randolph  was  refit 
ted,  and  a  new  mainmast  obtained  in  place  of  one  which 
had  been  struck  with  lightning,  she  dropt  down  to  Re 
bellion  Roads  with  her  little  sqndron.  Their  intention 
was  to  attack  the  Carysfort  frigate,  the  Perseus  twenty- 
four  gun  ship,  the  Hinchinbrook  of  sixteen  guns,  and  a 
privateer  which  had  been  cruising  off  the  Bar,  and  had 
much  annoyed  the  trade.  They  were  detained  a  con 
siderable  lime  in  Rebellion  Roads,  after  they  were  ready 
to  sail,  by  contrary  winds  and  want  of  water  on  the  Bar 
for  the  Randolph.  As  soon  as  they  got  over  the  Bar, 
they  stood  to  the  eastward,  in  expectation  of  falling  in 
with  the  British  cruisers.  The  next  day,  they  retook  a 
dismasted  ship  from  New-England  ;  as  she  had  no  cargo 
on  board,  they  took  out  her  crew,  six  light  guns,  and 
some  stores,  and  set  her  on  fire.  Finding  that  the  Brit 
ish  ships  had  left  the  coast,  they  proceeded  to  the  West 
Indies,  and  cruised  to  the  eastward,  and  nearly  in  the 
latitude  of  Barbadoes.  for  some  days,  during  which  time 
they  boarded  a  number  of  French  and  Dutch  ships,  and 
took  an  English  schooner  from  New-York,  bound  to 
Grenada,  which  had  mistaken  the  Randolph  for  a  Brit 
ish  frigate,  and  was  taken  possession  of  before  the  mis 
take  was  discovered. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  March,  1778,  the  fatal  acci 
dent  occurred,  which  terminated  the  life  of  this  excel 
lent  officer.  Foi  some  days  previously,  he  had  expec 
ted  an  attack.  Captain  Blake,  a  brave  officer,  who 
commanded  a  detachment  of  the  second  South  Carolina 
regiment,  serving  as  marines  on  board  the  General 
Moultrie,  and  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  several  of 
the  ensuing  particulars,  dined  on  board  the  Randolph 
two  days  before  the  engagement.  At  dinner  Captain 


NICHOLAS  BIDDLE.  413 

Biddle  said, — "We  have  been  cruizing  here  for  some 
time,  and  have  spoken  a  number  of  vessels,  who  will 
no  doubt  give  information  of  us,  and  I  should  not  be 
surprised  if  my  old  ship  should  be  out  after  us.  As  to 
any  thing  that  carries  her  guns  upon  one  deck,  I  think 
myself  a  match  for  her."  About  three  P.  M.of  the  7th 
of  March,  a  signal  was  made  from  the  Randolph  for  a 
sail  to  windward,  in  consequence  of  which  the  squad 
ron  hauled  upon  a  wind,  in  order  to  speak  her.  It  was 
four  o'clock  before  she  could  be  distinctly  seen,  when 
she  was  discovered  to  be  a  ship,  though  as  she  neared 
and  came  before  the  wind,  she  had  the  appearance  of  a 
large,  sloop  with  only  a  square  sail  set.  About  seven 
o'clock,  the  Randolph  being  to  windward,  hove  to,  the 
Moultrie  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  astern, 
and  rather  to  leeward,  also  hove  to.  About  eight 
o'clock,  the  British  ship  fired  a  shot  just  ahead  of  the 
Moultrie,  and  hailed  her;  the  answer  was  the  Polly  of 
New-Vork;  upon  which  she  immediately  hauled  her 
wind  and  hailed  the  Randolph.  She  was  then,  for  the 
first  time,  discovered  to  be  a  two-decker.  After  several 
questions  asked  and  answered,  as  she  was  ranging  up 
along  side  the  Randolph,  and  had  got  on  her  weather 
quarter,  Lieutenant  Barnes,  of  that  ship,  called  out, 
"This  is  the  Randolph,"  and  she  immediately  hoisted 
her  colours  and  gave  the  enemy  a  broadside.  Shortly 
after  the  action  commenced,  Captain  Biddle  received 
a  wound  in  the  thigh  and  fell.  This  occasioned  some 
confusion,  as  it  was  at  first  thought  that  he  was  killed. 
He  soon,  however,  ordered  a  chair  to  be  brought,  said 
that  he  was  only  slightly  wounded,  and  being  carried 
forward  encouraged  the  crew.  The  stern  of  the  ene 
my's  ship  being  clear  of  the  Randolph,  the  captain  of 
the  Moultrie  gave  orders  to  fire,  but  the  enemy  having 
shot  ahead,  so  as  to  bring  the  Randolph  between  them, 
the  last  broadside  of  the  Moultrie  went  into  the  Ran 
dolph,  and  it  was  thought  by  one  of  the  men  saved, 
who  was  stationed  on  the  quarter-deck  near  Captain 
Biddle,  that  he  was  wounded  by  a  shot  from  the  Moul 
trie.  The  fire  from  the  Randolph  was  constant  and 
well  directed.  She  fired  nearly  three  broadsides  to  the 


414  NICHOLAS  BIDDLE. 

enemy's  one,  and  she  appeared,  while  the  battle  lasted^ 
to  be  in  a  continual  blaze,  In  about  twenty  minutes 
after  the  action  began,  and  while  the  surgeon  was  exam 
ining  Captain  Bicldle's  wound  on  the  quarter-deck  the 
Randolph  blew  up. 

The  enemy's  vessel  was  the  British  ship  Yarmouth^ 
of  sixty-four  guns,  commanded  by  Captain  Vincent. 
So  closely  were  they  engaged,  that  Captain  Morgan,  of 
the  Fair  American,  and  all  his  crew,  thought  that  it 
was  the  enemy's  ship  that  had  blown  up.  He  stood  for 
the  Yarmouth,  and  had  a  trumpet  in  his  hand  to  hail 
and  inquire  how  Captain  Biddle  was,  when  he  discov 
ered  his  mistake.  Owing  to  the  disabled  condition  of 
the  Yarmouth  the  other  vessels  escaped. 

The  cause  of  the  explosion  was  never  ascertained, 
but  it  is  remarkable  that  just  before  he  sailed,  after  the 
clerk  had  copied  the  signals  and  orders  for  the  armed 
vessels  that  accompanied  him,  he  wrote  at  the  foot  of 
them  "In  case  of  coming  to  action  in  the  night  be  very 
careful  of  your  magazines."  The  number  of  persons 
on  board  the  Randolph  was  three  hundred  and  fifteen, 
who  all  perished  except  four  men,  who  were  tossed 
about  for  four  days  on  a  piece  of  the  wreck  before  they 
were  discovered  and  taken  up.  From  the  information 
of  two  of  these  men,  who  were  afterward  in  Philadel 
phia,  and  of  some  individuals  in  the  other  vessels  of  the 
squadron,  we  have  been  enabled  to  state  some  particu 
lars  of  this  unfortunate  event  in  addition  to  the  accounts 
given  of  it  by  Dr.  Ramsay  in  his  History  of  the  Ameri 
can  Revolution,  and  in  his  history  of  the  Revolution  of 
South  Carolina.  In  the  former  work,  the  historian  thus 
concludes  his  account  of  the  action:  "Captain  Biddle 
who  perished  on  board  the  Randolph  was  universally 
lamented.  He  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  had  exci 
ted  high  expectations  of  future  usefulness  to  his  country, 
as  a  bold  and  skilful  naval  officer." 

Thus  prematurely  fell,  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven,  as 
gallant  an  officer  as  any  country  ever  boasted  of.  In 
the  short  career  which  Providence  allowed  to  him, he  dis 
played  all  those  qualities  which  constitute  a  great  sol 
dier.  Brave  to  excess,  and  consumately  skilled  in  his 


EDWARD    PREBLE.  415 

profession,  no  danger  nor  unexpected  event  could  shake 
his  firmness,  or  disturb  his  presence  of  mind.  An  exact 
and  rigid  disciplinarian,  he  tempered  his  authority  with 
so  much  humanity  and  affability,  that  his  orders  were 
always  executed  with  cheerfulness  and  alacrity.  Per 
haps  no  officer  ever  understood  the  art  of  commanding 
the  affections,  as  well  as  the  respect  of  those  who  served 
under  him;  if  that  can  be  called  an  art,  which  was 
rather  the  natural  effect  of  the  benevolence  and  mag 
nanimity  of  his  character."* 


EDWARD  PHEBLE, 

Commodore  in  the  American    Navy. 

"JEDIDIAH  PREBLE  held  the  commission  of  brigadier 
general  under  the  colonial  government  of  Massachu 
setts  Bay,  In  the  struggle  for  independence,  he  took  a 
decided  stand  in  opposition  tothe  encroachments  of  the 
British  crown,  and  during  that  contest,  was  for  several 
years  a  member  of  the  council  and  senate  of  that  state, 
He  died  in  the  year  1783,  Eged  seventy-seven,  having 
been  gratified  by  the  disposer  of  human  events  to  live 
just  long  enough  to  see  perfected  the  emancipation  of 
this  country  from  European  tlraldrom,  a  blessing  partly 
denied  to  Moses,  who  was  *nly  permitted  to  view  the 
promised  land  at  a  distance,  and  then  expired. 

This  gentleman,  in  the  yeai  1761,  resided  in  a  part  of 
Falmouth,  called  then,  Casco  Bay,  now  Portland,  in  the 
Province  of  Maine,  where  his  son  Edward,  the  subject 
of  tiiis  memoir,  was  born  on  the  15th  of  August  in  that 
year.  In  his  infantile  years,  he  discovered  a  perseve 
ring  and  bold  temper.  His  fom  was  robust,  his  consti 
tution  strong  and  invigorated  fcy  athletic  sports.  His 
father  placed  him  at  Du miner  academy,  Newbury,  where 
he  received  the  rudiments  of  a  Latin  and  English  edu 
cation,  under  a  Mr.  Samuel  Moody,  a  gentleman  in  high 
respect  for  his  integrity  and  literary  qualifications. 

In  contrariety  to  the  wishes  and  expectations  of  his 
father,  he,  at  an  early  period,  manifested  a  predilection 

's   American  BiograpUcal   Dictionary. 


416  EDWARD    PRfcBLE. 

for  the  sea,  and  as  he  persisted  in  his  inclination,  his  fa 
ther  at  last  deemed  it  proper  to  gratify  him.  Hence  he 
left  school  at  the  dawn  of  the  revolution,  and  instead  of 
entering  a.  freshman  at  college,  he  entered  a  freshman  oa 
board  of  a  letter  of  marque,  Captain  Frend,  and  made 
his  voyage  in  a  trip  to  Europe.  At  the  age  of  eighteen, 
he  was  a  midshipman  on  board  the  state  ship  Protector, 
of  twenty  six  guns,  Captain  John  Foster  Williams,  in 
1779.  On  her  first  cruise  he  had  to  perform  his  part  in 
a  hard  fought  action  with  the  English  letter  of  marque 
Duff,  carrying  thirty-six  guns,  off  Newfoundland,  when 
the  enemy  at  last  blew  up.  Scarcely  forty  of  the  crew 
were  saved.  During  his  second  cruise,  the  Protector 
was  captured,  and  her  principal  officers  sent  prisoners 
to  England,  with  the  exception  of  Preble,  who  was  re 
leased  at  New  York,  through  the  influence  of  a  Colonel 
William  Tyng,  his  father's  intimate  friend.  As  soon  as 
he  had  obtained  his  liberty,  he  returned  home. 

Mr.  George  Williams  the  late  first  lieutenant  of  the 
Protector,  having  been  appointed  to  command  the  sloop 
of  war  Winthrop,  then  fitting  out  at  Boston,  Mr.  Preble 
entered  as  first  lieutenant,  and  continued  in  her  until  the 
peace  of  J783,renderingmany  essential  servicesinthe  line 
of  his  duty.  His  daring  courage  and  presence  of  mind 
in  the  midst  of  danger,  will  be  best  illustrated  by  the 
following  anecdote: 

Captain  Little,  having  the  tender  of  an  English  armed 
brig,  which  lav  in  the  harbor  of  Penubscot,  was  advised 
of  certain  circumstances,  which  induced  him  to  attempt 
her  capture  by  surprise.  To  accomplish  this  object  he 
run  alongside  of  the  brig  in  the  night,  and  had  forty 
boarders  dressed  in  white  frocks,  to  distinguish  them 
from  the  enemy.  As  he  advanced,  he  was  taken  for 
the  brig's  tender,  hailed,  and  directed  to  ran  aboard. 
Little's  reply  was,  that  he  uxis  coming  aboard. 

As  Little  came  alongside  the  brig,  Lieutenant  Preble 
and  fourteen  of  the  party  appointed  for  the  purpose, 
jumped  on  board ;  but  the  rapidity  of  the  vessel's  pas 
sage  prevented  the  remainder  from  following.  Captain 
Little,  finding  the  preicariousness  of  Preble's  situation, 
hailed  him,  desiring  to  know,  if  he  would  not  have  more 


EDWARD    TREBLE,  417 

men.  His  reply,  indicative  of  great  presence  of  mind, 
was,  "No,  we  have  more  than  we  want ;  we  stand  in 
each  others'  way."  The  brig  being  within  pistol  shot 
of  the  shore,  the  chief  part  of  the  enemy  on  deck  leap 
ed  overboard,  and  swam  to  land;  who  were  followed 
by  some,  who  made  their  escape  through  the  cabin  win 
dows.  The  officers  were  just  rising  as  Preble  entered 
their  cabin;  Ive  assured  them,  that  they  were  his  prison 
ers,  and  that  any  resistance  would  be  vain  and  fatal  to 
them.  The  vessel  of  course  was  surrendered,  as  was 
supposed  to  a  superior  force.  Notwithstanding  a  brisk 
cannonade  and  firing  of  musketry  from  a  battery  on 
shore,  Preble  beat  his  prize  out  of  the  harbour,  and  ar 
rived  at  Boston,  without  injury.  The  knowledge  of  this 
gallant  achievement  greatly  enhanced  his  reputation  as 
a  naval  officer. 

From  the  peace  of  1783  to  the  year  1798,  he  pursued 
with  unblemished  reputation,  his  professional  career  in 
the  mercantile  employment,  with  the  varied  success 
generally  attendant  on  commercial  enterprise.  About 
this  period,  when  there  was  every  appearance  of  imme 
diate  hostilities  between  the  United  States  and  France, 
congress  determined  to  create  a  navy,  and  Mr.  Preble 
was  one  of  the  five  first  lieutenants  appointed  for  the 
nnval  establishment,  which  has  since  shed  so  much  lus 
tre  on  the  American  character  for  nautical  skill,  daring 
courage,  and  chivalrous  achievement. 

In  the  fall  and  winter  of  1798 — 9,  he  was  comman 
der  of  the  brig  Pickering,  in  which  he  made  two  cruises; 
and  in  1799  he  was  promoted  to  be  captain,  and  had 
the  command  of  the  Essex  frigate,  of  thirty-six  guns. 
With  this  frigate,  in  company  with  the  frigate  Congress, 
Captain  Sever,  he  sailed  for  Batavia,  in  January,  1800, 
to  convoy  the  American  homeward  bound  vessels,  tra 
ding  in  the  Indian  seas.  The  day  after  leaving  port, 
the  two  frigates  parted  in  a  snow-storm  from  the  ship 
ping  under  convoy,  outwardly  bound.  The  Congress 
returned  dismasted;  the  Essex  proceeded,  and  after 
waiting  for  Captain  Sever  some  time,  at  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  he  departed  for  Batavia.  Before  and  af- 

E3 


418  EDWARD    PREBLE. 

ter  he  arrived  at  that  port,  he  made  two  cruises  of  a 
fortnight  duration  each,  in  the  Straits  of  Sunda. 

In  June,  he  sailed  homeward  bound,  with  fourteen 
merchantmen,  valued  at  several  millions  of  dollars. 
From  these  he  separated  off  the  Banks  of  Lagullos,  in 
a  severe  squall,  but  most  of  them  rejoined  him  at  St. 
Helena,  from  whence  he  convoyed  them  out  of  danger. 
Off  the  Isle  of  France  or  Mauritius,  he  gave  chase  to- 
a  French  corvette,  which  escaped  in  a  calm  by  means 
of  her  sweeps.  Toward  the  close  of  this  year,  Captain 
Preble  arrived  at  New-York.  Ill  health  induced  him 
afterward  to  resign  to  Captain  Campbell,  the  command 
.of  the  frigate  Adams,  destined  for  the  Mediterranean. 
Having  somewhat  recovered  from  his  indisposition,  he 
was,  in  May,  1803,  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
frigate  Constitution,  lying  at  Boston,  with  orders  to  pre 
pare  her  for  sea.  In  June  a  squadron  destined  to  act 
against  Tripoli,  was  entrusted  to  his  direction.  The 
naval  force  consisted  of  seven  sail.  The  Constitution, 
forty-four  guns;  Philadelphia,  forty-four,  Argus,  brig, 
eighteen ;  Syren,  Nautilus,  and  Vixen,  sixteen  each  ;  and 
Enterprise,  fourteen.  Every  thing  being  ready,  he  set 
sail  for  the  object  of  his  destination,  on  the  Kith  Au 
gust.  Having  arrived  at  Gibralter,  where  he  was  ap 
prised  of  the  unfavorable  aspect  of  affairs  between  the 
United  States  and  the  Emperor  of  Morocco,  Captain 
Bainbridge  detained  a  Moorish  cruiser  of  twenty-two 
guns  and  one  hundred  men,  called  the  Mirboka,  which 
had  sailed  from  Tangier,  on  the  7th  of  the  same  month. 
On  board  of  this  vessel,  he  found  among  her  papers,  an 
unsigned  order  authorizing  her  commander  to  cruise 
against  the  Americans.  From  that  circumstance,  as 
well  as  her  having  captured  the  American  brig,  Celia, 
Captain  Bowen,  which  was  then  in  company,  Captain 
Bainbridge  deemed  the  Moorish  vessel  to  be  good 
prize,  and  restored  the  Celia  to  her  proper  commander. 

The  last  of  May,  Captain  Rodgers  had  detained  the 
Mishouda,  a  Tripolitan  vessel  under  Morocco  colors. 
She  had  a  passport  from  the  American  consul,  with  a 
reserve  for  blockaded  ports.  She  was  taken  atttempt- 
ing  to  go  into  Tripoli,  while  Captain  Rodgers,  in  the 


EDWARD    PREBLE. 

John  Adams,  was  known  to  be  blockading.  On  board 
her  were  guns  and  other  contraband  articles  not  in  her 
when  she  received  her  passport  at  Gibraltar;  also  twen 
ty  Tripoline  subjects  taken  in  at  Algiers.  The  appear 
ance  was  that  she  had  been  taken  under  the  imperial 
flag  for  the  purpose  of  being  restored  to  our  enemy. 
The  emperor  denied  authorizing  the  attempt  of  the 
Mishouda,  and  said  if  she  was  given  up,  the  Captain 
should  be  punished.  The  Governor,  Hashash,  on  learn 
ing  the  capture  of  the  Mirboka,  at  which  time  the  empe 
ror  was  absent,  declared  she  acted  without  authority, 
and  that  war  was  not  intended.  At  the  same  time,  her 
captain  certified  that  this  governor  gave  him  his  orders. 
Hashash  was,  and  continued  to  be  in  the  confidence  of 
Muley  Soli  man. 

The  next  day  after  his  arrival  Commodore  Preble 
wrote  to  the  consul  Simpson  at  Tangier,  desiring  him 
to  assure  the  Moorish  court,  that  the  United  States  wish 
ed  peace  with  his  majesty,  if  it  could  be  had  on  proper 
terms — that  he  could  not  suppose  the  emperor's  subjects 
would  dare  to  make  war  without  his  permission;  but 
as  their  authority  was  disavowed  by  the  governor,  he 
should  punish  as  a  pirate  every  Moorish  cruiser,  who 
should  be  found  to  have  taken  an  American. 

Commodore  Rodgers,  on  whom  the  command  of  the 
former  squadron  under  Morris  devolved,  and  who  was 
under  orders  to  return  to  the  United  States  with  the 
frigates  New-York  and  John  Adams,  agreed  to  remain 
a  few  days  on  the  station,  and  to  join  Commodore  Pre 
ble  at  Tangier  Bay,  to  assist  in  effecting  an  adjust 
ment. 

On  the  17th,  taking  into  his  ship  the  principal  Moor 
ish  officers  of  the  two  prizes,  he  appeared  with  the 
Constitution  and  John  Adams  in  Tangier  Bay,  hoisting 
the  white  flag  in  token  of  peace,  but  having  the  men  at 
quarters.  Mr.  Simpson,  however,  was  not  permitted  to 
come  on  board,  nor  to  write  except  on  an  open  slip  of 
paper:  being  confined  to  his  house,  with  two  sentinels 
at  his  door. 

Another  act  of  hostility  had  been  done  at  Mogadore, 
by  an  order  to  detain  all  American  vessels,  and  the  ac- 


420  EDWARD    PREBLE, 

tual  seizure  of  the  brig  Hannah  of  Salem,  Joseph   M, 
Williams,  master. 

The  commodore  determined  to  adopt  a  high  tone  and 
vigorous  measure.  He  observes,  in  his  communications* 
to  the  government,  "that  all  the  Barbary  powers,  except 
Algiers,  appear  to  have  a  disposition  to  quarrel  with  us, 
unless  we  tamely  submit  to  any  propositions  they  may 
choose  to  make.  Their  demands  will  increase,  and  be 
such  as  our  government  ought  not  to  comply  with. 
They  send  out  their  cruisers, — if  they  prove  successful, 
it  is  war,  and  we  must  purchase  peace,  suffering  them 
to  keep  all  they  have  taken;  and  if  they  are  unfortu 
nate,  and  we  capture  their  cruisers  before  they  have  ta 
ken  any  thing  valuable,  it  is  not  war,  although  the  or 
ders  for  capturing  are  found  on  board  ;  and  we  must  res 
tore  all."  This  Ire  believed  ought  not  to  be  suffered. 
Under  these  impressions  he  did  not  hesitate  to  use  his 
discretion,  although  specific  instructions  on  this  subject 
were  not  given,  and  to  follow  his  own  ideas  on  what 
expediency  and  honor  required,  taking  a  firm  attitude 
towards  the  aggressor.  This  he  would  have  done  and 
risked  the  consequences,  if  he  had  been  backed  by  no 
other  force  than  that  of  his  peculiar  squadron.  The 
consent  of  Commodore  Rodgers,  to  co-operate  with  the 
two  frigates  under  his  control,  left  no  room  for  question. 
Our  consul  believed  the  emperor  of  Morocco  had  long 
meditated  to  make  war,  as  soon  as  he  could  do  it  with 
a  prospect  of  impunity.  It  was,  therefore,  essential  to 
make  him  feel,  that  the  system  of  concession  was  aban 
doned. 

Accordingly  the  commodore  gave  orders  to  his  squad 
ron  to  bring  in  for  examination,  all  vessels  belonging  to 
the  Emperor  and  his  subjects;  despatched  three  vessels 
to  cruise  off  Mogadore,  Salle  and  Zarachi,  and  one  off 
Tetuan,  and  entered  the  bay  of  Tangier  at  several 
times. 

That  the  Tripolitans  might  not  think  they  were  for- 
gotton,  lie  despatched  the  Philadelphia  and  Vixen  to 
lie  before  Tripoli. 

The  consul,  Simpson,  made  representations  to  the 
emperor,  before  and  after  the  arrival  of  Commodore 


EDWARD  PREBLE.  421 

Preble.  The  answers  received  were  general,  but  show 
ed  that  if  he  had  authorized  war,  he  was  now  prepared 
to  disavow  it. 

On  the  5th  of  October,  when  his  majesty  was  expect 
ed,  he  anchored  with  the  Nautilus  in  company,  in  Tan 
gier  Bay;  the  circular  battery  at  the  town,  VV  1-2  Si  1-2 
miles  distant.  Here  he  remained,  only  changing  his 
ground  once  to  be  nearer  the  town,  until  peace  was 
concluded.  He  was  joined  in  the  afternoon  of  the  6th, 
by  the  frigates  New  York  and  John  Adams.  The  ship 
was  kept  constantly  cleared  for  action,  and  the  men  at 
quarters  night  and  day.  On  the  6th  his  majesty  arrived 
with  a  great  body  of  troops,  horse  and  foot,  estimated 
at  five  thousand  who  encamped  on  the  beach  opposite 
the  squadron. 

The  commodore  was  careful  to  order  the  ship  dress 
ed,  and  a  salute  of  21  guns,  which  was  returned  from 
the  fort  with  an  equal  number,  as  was  the  salute  of  the 
other  frigates  in  the  morning  following. 

A  present  of  bullocks,  sheep,  and  fowls,  was  ordered 
for  the  squadron,  as  a  token  of  the  emperor's  good  will. 

On  the  8th,  the  emperor,  with  his  court  and  a  large 
body  of  troops,  visited  the  batteries  on  the  bay  for  the 
purpose  of  viewing  the  United  States'  squadron,  when 
the  Constitution  saluted  again  with  twenty-one  guns — -a 
compliment  with  which  his  majesty  was  very  much  grati 
fied.  The  present  arriving  at  the  same  time,  it  was  ac 
knowledged  by  three  guns,  according  to  the  Moorish 
custom.  The  following  day  the  consul  gave  notice, 
that  the  emperor  had  given  orders  to  the  governor  of 
Mogadore,for  the  release  of  the  American  brig  detained 
in  that  place,  and  that  Monday  was  appointed  for  giv 
ing  an  audience  to  the  commodore  and  consul. 

On  the  day  assigned,  the  llth,  the  commodore,  accom 
panied  by  Colonel  Lear,  Mr.  Morris,  as  secretary,  and 
two  midshipmen,  landed  at  Tangier  for  the  proposed 
audience.  He  believed  there  was  no  danger  in  landing; 
but  he  expressed  his  desire,  that  if  he  should  be  forcibly 
detained,  the  commanding  officer  on  board  should  not 
enter  into  treaty  for  his  release,  but  open  a  fire  upon  the 
town.  They  were  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the 


422  EDWARD  PREBLE. 

sovereign  through  a  double  file  of  guards.  The  com 
modore,  at  the  entrance,  was  requested,  according  to 
Moorish  custom,  in  such  cases,  to  lay  aside  his  side- 
arms.  He  said  he  must  comply  with  the  custom  of  his 
own  country,  and  retain  them,  which  was  allowed.  On 
coming  into  the  imperial  presence,  the  emperor  express 
ed  much  sorrow  that  any  difference  had  arisen,  for  he 
was  at  peace  with  the  United  States.  He  disavowed 
having  given  any  hostile  orders;  said  he  would  restore 
all  American  vessels  and  property  detained  in  conse 
quence  of  any  acts  of  his  governors,  and  renew  and 
confirm  the  treaty  made  with  his  father  in  1786.  The 
commodore  and  consul  on  the  part  of  the  United  States, 
promised  that  the  vessels  and  property  of  the  emperor 
should  be  restored,  and  the  orders  of  capture  revoked. 
The  commodore  received  a  formal  ratification  of  the 
treaty  of  1786,  and  a  letter  of  friendship  and  peace  to 
the  president,  signed  by  the  emperor.  Thus  by  the 
happy  r.nion  of  prudence  and  energy,  our  affairs  with 
this  piratical  despot  were  placed  in  a  better  condition 
than  before  the  variance. 

The  commodore  having  nothing  to  fear  from  Morocco, 
was  at  Jiberty  to  direct  his  principal  attention  to  Tripoli. 
The  season,  however,  was  too  far  advanced  for  active 
and  permanent  operations  against  the  enemy.  Yet  this 
officer  did  not  indulge  himself  in  repose,  or  suffer  his  for 
ces  to  be  idle.  In  cruising,  where  they  necessarily,  at 
this  time  of  the  year,  encountered  a  rough  sea  and  tem 
pestuous  weather,  in  supplying  convoy,  and  in  maintain 
ing  the  blockade  of  Tripoli,  when  practicable,  the 
squadron  was  fully  and  arduously  employed.  The 
Philadelphia  and  Vixen  had  been  ordered  to  the  coast 
of  Tripoli.  The  commodore  now  formally  declared  the 
blockade  of  that  place,  and  sent  notice  of  the  fact  to 
the  ministers  and  consuls  of  the  United  States,  to  be 
communicated  to  the  respective  neutral  powers.  He 
found  it  expedient  to  go  to  Cadiz,  in  order  to  make  up 
his  complement  of  men,  and  procure  a  few  supplies  not 
to  be  obtained  at  that  time  at  Gibraltar.  He  returned 
from  Cadiz  on  the  6th  of  November,  and  after  making  a 
suitable  disposal  of  his  force,  proceeded  to  Algiers. 


EDWARD  PREBLE.  423 

where  he  was  to  leave  Col.  Lear,  the  consul  general. 
On  the  22d,  he  sailed  from  Algiers  for  Syracuse:  and  on 
his  voyage  was  informed  of  the  disastrous  loss  of  the 
Philadelphia,  Captain  William  Bainbridge.  The  fol 
lowing  is  a  brief  account  of  that  melancholy  event.  On 
the  31st  of  October,  after  pursuing  a  Tripoline  corsair, 
till  she  come  to  seven  fathoms  water,  in  beating  off  she 
ran  on  a  rock,  not  laid  down  in  any  chart,  about  four  and 
a  half  miles  from  the  town.  Every  exertion  to  get  her 
off  proved  ineffectual.  Meanwhile  she  was  attacked 
by  numerous  gun  boats,  which  she  withstood  for  four 
hours,  whilst  the  careening  of  the  ship  made  the  guns 
totally  useless.  A  reinforcement  coming  off  and  no  pos 
sible  means  of  resisting  them  appearing,  the  captain 
submitted  to  the  horrid  necessity  of  striking  to  his  bar 
barous  enemy.  In  forty-eight  hours,  the  wind  blowing 
in  shore,  the  Tripolitans  were  able  to  get  off  the  frigate, 
and  having  raised  her  guns,  towerd  her  into  the  harbour. 
The  commodore  apprehended  the  worst  from  this  dimi 
nution  of  his  force;  a  war  with  Tunis,  and  perhaps 
with  Algiers;  at  least  a  protraction  of  the  present  war. 
He  was,  however,  induced  to  hope,  that  government 
would  repair  this  loss  by  another  frigate  in  the  spring, 
and  would  also  furnish  him  with  more  small  vessels  or 
gun  boats. 

On  the  14th  of  December,  he  sailed  with  the  Enter 
prise,  on  a  winter  cruise,  amidst  boisterous  weather;  for 
fnany  days  it  blew  a  gale.  On  the  morning  of  the  23d. 
-the  Enterprise  captured  a  ketch  in  sight  of  Tripoli. — 
She  was  under  Turkish  colours,  and  navigated  by  Turks 
and  Greeks;  but  had  on  board  two  Tripolian  officers  of 
distinction,  a  son  of  one  of  the  officers,  a  number  of  Tri 
poline  soldiers,  and  forty  or  more  blacks,  men  and  wo 
men,  slaves  belonging  to  the  Bashaw  and  his  subjects. 
He  at  first  determined  to  release  the  vessel  and  men 
claimed  by  the  Turkish  captain,  and  retain  the  Tripo 
line,  about  60  in  number,  as  prisoners ;  hoping  they  would 
afford  an  advantage  in  negotiation,  and  perhaps  be 
exchanged  for  some  of  our  countrymen.  But  before 
this  determination  was  executed,  he  ascertained  that 
tlie  captain  had  been  active  in  taking  the  Philadelphia. 


424  EDWARD  PREBLE. 

Having  received  on  board  this  very  vessel  one  hundred 
Tripolitans,  armed  with  swords  and  muskets,  and  sub 
stituted  the  colours  of  the  enemy  for  his  own,  he  assault 
ed  the  fiigate,  and  when  she  was  boarded,  plundered  the 
officers.  He  had,  therefore,  no  hesitation  in  retaining 
the  vessel.  As  she  was  not  in  a  condition  to  be  sent  to 
the  United  States,  he  transmitted  her  papers  to  govern 
ment,  and  sometime  after  had  her  appraised,  and  took 
her  into  the  service  as  the  ketch  Intrepid. 

February  the  3d,  1804,  Lieutenant  Stephen  Decatur, 
with  seventy  volunteers  in  the  Intrepid,  and  accompa 
nied  by  the  Syren,  sailed  for  Tripoli,  with  a  view  to  des 
troy  the  frigate  Philadelphia.  On  the  16th,  the  service 
was  accomplished  in  the  most  gallant  manner.  Lieut. 
Decatur,  entered  the  harbour  of  Tripoli  in  the  night; 
and  laying  his  vessel  along-side  the  frigate,  boarded  and 
carried  her  against  all  opposition.  The  assailants  then 
set  fire  to  her  and  left  her.  She  was  soon  in  a  complete 
blaze,  and  was  totally  consumed. 

From  this  time  till  the  bombardment  of  Tripoli,  the 
commodore  was  occupied  in  keeping  up  the  blockade  of 
the  harbour,  and  in  making  preparations  for  an  attack. 
He  took  the  utmost  pains  to  convey  supplies  and  informa 
tion  to  Captain  Bainbridge,  and  his  officers  and  men; 
and  after  a  time,  by  means  of  the  good  offices  of  Sir 
Alexander  Ball,  succeeded.  He  tried  several  times  to 
negotiate  for  a  ransom  and  treaty;  but  the  demands  of 
the  regency  was  sometimes  ridiculously  extravagant, 
and  when  lowest,  beyond  what  he  thought  himself  per 
mitted  to  accede  to.  The  designs  of  warfare  he  had 
entertained  were  checked  by  a  solicitude  for  the  release 
of  his  countrymen;  though  he  may  by  some  persons, 
perhaps,  be  thought  to  have  indulged  too  far  his  aversion 
to  the  payment  of  a  considerable  ransom.  He  found 
himself  able  to  make  their  situation  as  comfortable  as 
the  nature  of  it  would  admit;  and  he  believed  that  the 
infliction  of  suffering  and  terror,  when  the  time  should 
come,  upon  the  enemy,  would  not  produce  anv  long  con 
tinued  aggravation  of  the  evils  of  their  condition,  whilst 
it  would  essentially  serve  his  country.  Indeed,  after  the 
destruction  of  the  Philadelphia,  the  Bashaw  at  first 


EDWARD  PREBLE.  425 

affected  to  avenge  himself  by  a  severer  treatment  of  the 
captives;  but  this  was  not  long  persisted  in. 

When  the  first  consul  of  France,  in  March,  at  the  in 
stance  of  Mr.  Livingston,  directed  his  commissary  at 
this  regency  to  mediate  for  their  release,  Mr.  Beaussier 
undertook  the  office,  and  announced  to  the  commodore, 
that  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  with  some 
usual  gratuities,  would  probably  effect  the  object,and  that 
perhaps  a  cartel  for  the  exchange  of  prisoners  might  be 
negotiated,  which  would  reduce  the  sum.  The  commo 
dore  did  not  think  himself  authorized  to  agree  to  these 
terms,  and  never  would  go  beyond  eighty  thousand;  not 
that  the  amount  was  important,  except  on  principle,  and 
as  it  might 'affect  our  relations  with  the  other  Barbarv 
powers.  From  first  to  last,  it  was  a  point  of  honour 
with  the  Bashaw,  not  to  give  up  the  American  captives 
for  a  less  sum  than  had  been  usually  received  from  most 
of  the  powers  of  Europe,  in  similar  cases.  But  he  was 
glad  at  last  to  accept  of  sixty  thousand  dollars,  satisfied 
no  doubt,  that  our  naval  armament  would  be  coeval  at 
least  with  his  hostility,  if  not  at  all  times  equally  active 
and  formidable;  but  especially  at  that  moment  appre 
hensive  that  his  brother's  General  Eaton,  if  not  disarmed 
by  negotiation  would  reinstate  Hamet  in  the  sovereignty 
of  Tripoli. 

On  the  first  of  April,  the  commodore  went  to  display 
his  force  at  Tunis;  where  he  found  a  Tripoline  polacre 
dismantled,  having  been  blockaded  for  sixteen  days  by 
Captain  Decatur.  The  Bey  of  Tunis  had,  for  some 
time,  been  uneasy  at  his  treaty  with  the  United  States, 
and  insisted  that  the  commodore  should  land  and  sat 
isfy  hin  for  some  property  alleged  to  be  unlawfully 
seized  by  the  former  squadron.  The  commodore  made 
answer  that  it  was  not  his  business,  and  that  he  must 
put  to  sea.  He  found  it  necessary  to  watch  Tunis  du-^ 
ring  the  whole  of  his  command.  In  the  spring  he  took 
another  prize,  a  Tripoline;  and  upon  the  presumption  of 
her  being  condemned,  she  was  estimated,  equipped,  put 
in  commission,  and  called  the  Scourge. 

Finding  that  the  expected  force  did  not  arrive  from 
the  United  States,  our  officers  resolved  tc  endeavour  to 

F3 


426  EDWARD  FKEBLL. 

make  some  use  of  the  friendship  of  Naples.  Although 
he  was  without  diplomatic  authority,  the  minister,  Gen. 
Acton,  from  personal  regard  and  good  will  to  the  ser 
vice,  favoured  his  application  to  the  king,  and  the  com 
modore  obtained  as  a  friendly  loan  to  the  United  States, 
six  gun-boats  and  two  bomb  vessels,  completely  fitted 
for  service,  also  liberty  to  ship  twelve  or  fifteen  Neapo 
litans  to  serve  under  our  flag  in  each  boat. 

With  this  addition  to  his  armament,  on  the  21st  ol 
July,  he  joined  the  detachment  off  Tripoli,  where  his 
force  consisted  of  the  Constitution,  44  guns,  the  brigs 
Argus  and  Syren,  18  guns  each,  the  Scourge — the 
schooners  Vixen  and  Nautilus,  16  guns  each,  and  the 
Enterprise,  14. 

The  enemy  had  on  his  castle  and  several  batteries, 
one  hundred  and  fifteen  guns;  fifty -five  of  which  were 
heavy  battering  brass  cannon;  the  others  long  eighteen 
and  twelve  pounders;  nineteen  gun  boats,  with  each  a 
long  brass  eighteen  or  twenty-four  pounder  in  the  bow, 
and  two  howitzers  abaft.  He  had  two  schooners  of 
eight  guns  each,  a  brig  of  ten,  and  two  galleys,  having 
each  four  guns.  In  addition  to  the  ordinary  Turkish 
garrison,  stationed  upon  the  fortifications,  and  the  crews 
of  the  boats  and  armed  vessels,  computed  at  about  three 
thousand,  the  Bashaw  had  called  in  to  the  defence  of 
the  city  more  than  twenty  thousand  Arabs. 

On  the  3d  of  August,  the  squadron  was,  at  noon, 
within  two  or  three  miles  of  their  batteries.  The  com 
modore,  observing  that  several  of  the  enemy's  boats  had 
taken  a  station  without  the  reef  of  rocks,  which  covers 
the  entrance  of  the  harbour,  about  2  miles  from  its  bot 
tom,  resolved  to  take  ad  vantage  of  this  circumstance,  and 
made  signal  for  the  squadron  to  come  within  speaking 
distance,  when  he  communicated  to  the  several  com 
manders  his  intention  of  attacking  the  shipping  and 
batteries.  The  gun  and  mortar  boats  were  immediately 
manned  and  prepared  to  cast  off.  At  half  past  one 
o'clock,  the  squadron  stood  for  the  batteries — at  two, 
cast  off  the  gun  boats;  at  half  past  two,  signal  for  the 
bombs  and  boats  to  advance  and  attack,  and  in  fifteen 
minutes  after,  signal  was  given  for  general  action.  It 


EDWARD  PREBLE.  427 

was  commenced  by  the  bombs  throwing  shells  into  the 
town.  In  an  instant,  the  enemy's  line  opened  a  tremen 
dous  fire  from  not  less  than  two  hundred  guns,  which  was 
promptly  returned  by  the  whole  squadron,  now  within 
Musket-shot  of  the  principal  batteries. 

At  this  moment,  Captain  Decatur,  with  three  gun 
boats,  attacked  the  enemy's  eastern  division,  consisting 
of  nine.  He  was  soon  in  the  centre  of  them;  and  the 
fire  of  grape,  langrage  and  musketry,  was  changed  to  a 
deadly  personal  combat  with  the  bayonet,  spear,  sabre 
and  tomahawk.  It  would  be  impossible,  in  our  narrow 
limits,  to  enter  into  a  detail  of  the  gallant  exploits  of 
our  countrymen  upon  this  trying  occasion.  The  Turks 
fought  with  desperation;  Decatur  took  two  of  their 
boats,  in  which  were  thirty-three  officers  and  men  killed, 
and  twenty-seven  made  prisoners,  of  whom  nineteen 
were  severely  wounded. 

Lieutenant  Trippe  boarded  one  of  the  large  boats., 
with  only  a  midshipman,  Mr.  Jonathan  Henley,  and 
nine  men.  His  boat  falling  off  before  any  more  could 
join  him,  he  was  left  to  conquer  or  perish,  with  the  fear 
ful  odds  of  eleven  to  thirty-six.  In  a  few  minutes,  how 
ever,  the  enemy  was  subdued;  fourteen  of  them  lost 
their  lives,  and  twenty-two  submitted  to  be  prisoners; 
Lieut.  Trippe  received  eleven  sabre  wounds,  some  of 
which  were  deep  and  dangerous.  Mr.  Henley  at  this 
rencounter  displayed  a  valour,  joined  to  a  coolness,  that 
would  have  honoured  a  veteran.  Lieutenant  Bain- 
bridge  had  his  lateen  yard  shot  away,  which  baffled  his 
inmost  exertions  to  get  along-side  the  enemy's  boats; 
but  his  active  and  well  directed  fire,  within  musket-shot, 
was  very  effective. 

Captain  Somers  was  not  able  to  fetch  far  enough  to 
windward  to  co-operate  with  Decatur.  But  he  bore 
down  upon  the  leeward  division  of  the  enemy,  and  with 
his  single  boat,  within  pistol-shot,  attacked  five  full 
manned  boats,  defeated  and  drove  them,  in  a  shattered 
condition,  and  with  the  loss  of  many  lives,  under  shelter 
of  the  rocks. 

The  two  bomb  vessels  kept  their  station,  although 
often  covered  with  the  spray  of  the  sea,  occasioned  bj; 


428  EDWARD  PKEBLfc. 

the  enemy's  shot.  They  kept  up  a  constant  fire,  and 
threw  a  great  number  of  shells  into  the  town.  Five  of 
the  enemy's  gun-boats  and  two  galleys,  composing  their 
centre  division,  stationed  within  the  rocks,  joined  by  the 
boats  which  had  been  driven  in,  arid  reinforced,  twice 
attempted  to  row  out  and  surround  our  gun  boats  and 
prizes.  They  were  as  often  foiled  by  the  vigilance  of 
the  commodore,  who  gave  signal  to  the  brigs  and  schoon 
ers  to  cover  them,  which  was  promptly  attended  to  by 
those  vessels,  all  of  which  were  gallantly  conducted, 
and  annoyed  the  enemy  exceedingly.  The  fire  of  the 
Constitution  had  its  ample  share  in  this  bombardment. 
It  kept  the  flotilla  in  constant  disorder,  and  produced  no 
inconsiderable  effect  on  shore, 

At  half  past  four,  the  wind  inclining  to  the  northward, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  enemy's  flotilla  having  retreat 
ed  behind  coverts,  which  shielded  them  from  our  shot, 
while  our  people  were  necessarily  much  exhausted  by 
two  hours  and  a  half  severe  exertion,  signal  was  given 
for  the  gun-boats  and  bombs  to  retire  from  action;  and 
immediately  after  for  the  brigs  and  schooners  to  take 
the  gun-boats  and  their  prizes  in  tow,  which  was  hand 
somely  executed,  the  whole  covered  by  a  heavy  fire 
from  the  Constitution.  In  fifteen  minutes  the  whole 
squadron  was  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy's  shot,  and 
the  Commodore  hauled  off  to  give  tow  to  the  bomb- 
ketches. 

On  hoard  the  frigate  not  a  man  was  killed.  The 
other  vessels  and  boats  suffered  in  their  rigging,  and  had 
sundry  men  wounded,  but  lost  none  except  Lieutenant 
Decatnr,  the  brother  of  the  Captain  Decatur,  so  con 
spicuous  in  this  war.  Several  circumstances  explain 
this  impunity  of  our  squadron.  Where  the  engagement 
was  close,  as  with  the  boats,  the  impetuosity  of  the  at 
tack,  as  well  as  our  more  dexterous  use  of  the  weapons 
of  destruction,  overpowered  and  appalled  the  enemy. 
The  barbarians  are  unskilful  gunners.  The  shower  of 
grape  shot  annoyed  and  discomposed  them,  in  the  ap 
plication  of  what  little  skill  they  possessed. 

Very  different  was  the  result  of  this  conflict  to  the 
enemy.  The  American  fire  was  not  an  empty  peal. 


EDWARD    PREBLE.  429 

hut  a  messenger  of  death  in  every  direction.  The  three 
captured  boats  had  one  hundred  and  three  men  on 
board;  forty-seven  of  whom  were  killed,  twenty-six 
wounded,  and  thirty  only  remained  fit  for  duty.  Three 
other  boats  were  sunk  with  their  entire  crews,  and  the 
decks  of  their  vessels  in  the  harbour  were  swept  of 
numbers.  Many  guns  of  the  forts  were  dismounted, 
and  the  town  was  considerably  damaged. 

This  attack  on  Tripoli  displayed,  in  an  eminent  de 
gree,  the  penetration  and  energy  of  the  Commodore, 
and  his  power  of  infusing  his  own  spirit  of  heroism  into 
his  officers  and  men.  This  achievement,  as  might  be 
expected,  made  a  powerful  impression  on  the  mind  of 
the  enemy.  The  burning  of  the  Philadelphia  could  not 
fail  to  make  the  Bashaw  and  his  people  apprehend 
something  serious  from  the  present  commander.  When 
the  squadron  was  seen  standing  in,  however,  he  affec 
ted  contempt,  and,  surveying  them  from  his  palace,  ob 
served,  "They  will  mark  their  distance  for  tacking; 
they  are  a  sort  of  Jews,  who  have  no  notion  of  fighting." 
The  palace  and  terraces  of  the  houses  were  covered 
with  spectators,  to  see  the  chastisement  the  bashaw's 
boats  would  give  the  squadron,  if  they  approached  too 
near.  This  exultation  was  very  transient;  for  the  bat 
tle  was  scarcely  joined,  when  no  one  was  seen  on  shore, 
except  on  the  batteries.  An  intelligent  officer  of  the 
Philadelphia,  then  in  captivity,  observed  that  the  Turks 
asked  if  those  men  that  fought  so  were  Americans,  or 
infernals  in  Christian  shape,  sent  to  destroy  the  sons  of 
the  prophet! 

On  the  5th  of  August,  the  Commodore  prevailed  on  a 
French  privateer,  which  had  left  Tripoli  that  morning, 
to  return  with  fourteen  wounded  Tripolines,  whose 
wounds  had  been  carefully  dressed,  and  whom  the  Com 
modore  sent  with  a  letter  to  the  Bashaw's  minister. 
These  prisoners,  it  is  said,  informed  the  Prince  that  the 
Americans  in  battle  were  fiercer  than  lions;  but  in  the 
treatment  of  their  captives  were  even  more  kind  than 
Mussr.lmen.  On  the  7th,  the  privateer  returned  with  a 
letter  from  the  French  consul,  signifying  that  the  Ba 
shaw  had  very  much  lowered  his  tone;  and  would  prob- 


430  EDWARD   PREBLL. 

ably  treat  on  reasonable  terms.  But  nothing  satisfacto 
ry  being  proposed  by  the  enemy,  and  the  terms  intima 
ted  being  higher  than  the  Commander  was  authorized 
to  make,  he  prepared  for  a  second  attack.  At  half  past 
two  the  assault  was  made.  Within  two  hours,  six  of 
the  seven  guns  were  silenced.  Forty-eight  shells  and 
about  five  hundred  round  shot,  twenty-four  pounders, 
were  thrown  into  the  town  and  batteries,  when,  between 
five  and  six,  P.  M.  the  squadron  retired  from  action. 
During  the  engagement,  the  enemy's  gun-boats  and  gal- 
lies  manoeuvred  to  gain  a  position  to  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  ours;  but  the  larger  vessels  were  so  arranged  as  to 
defeat  their  design.  The  loss,  this  day,  was  twenty- 
two  killed  and  six  wounded,  two  of  them  mortally. 

At  eight  in  the  evening,  the  John  Adams,  Captain 
Channcey,  joined  the  squadron.  By  him  the  Commo 
dore  had  the  first  official  notice  that  four  frigates  were 
on  their  passage  to  reinforce  his  detachment.  At  the 
same  time,  also,  he  learned  that,  by  the  appointment  of 
a  senior  officer  to  one  of  the  frigates,  he  would  be  super 
seded  in  the  command.  The  government  were  highly 
satisfied  with  the  Commodore,  but  they  had  not  a  suffi 
cient  number  of  Captains,  junior  to  Preble,  to  supply 
all  the  frigates  sent  out;  and  they  did  not  think  the  sa 
ving  of  his  feelings  would  justify  the  creation  of  any 
others.  Had  they,  however,  known  or  anticipated  his 
brilliant  success  at  this  time,  they  would  probably  have 
ventured  upon  the  promotion  of  one  or  two  of  the  gal 
lant  lieutenants  in  the  Mediterranean,  in  order  to  keep 
the  Commodore  in  the  chief  command. 

As  the  frigates  were  to  sail  four  days  after  the  John 
Adams,  further  operations  were  suspended,  in  expecta 
tion  of  their  arrival.  No  assistance  could  be  received 
from  this  frigate,  as  her  guns  had  been  stowed  by  the 
kelson,  and  their  carriages  put  away  in  the  frigates,  to 
make  room  for  her  cargo,  she  being  out  as  a  transport. 

On  the  9th,  Commodore  Preble,  in  the  brig  Argus,, 
reconnoitered  the  harbor.  The  next  day  a  flag  of  truce 
was  seen  flying  on  the  castle.  The  Commodore  sent  a 
boat  on  shore,  which  was  not  permitted  to  land,  but  re 
turned  with  a  letter  from  the  French  consul,  advising 


EDWARD    PREBLE.  431 

;he  Commodore  that  the  Bashaw  would  accept  five  hun 
dred  dollars  each  for  the  ransom  of  the  prisoners,  and 
terminate  the  war  without  any  consideration  or  annuity 
for  peace. 

The  amount  of  the  demand  was  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  which  the  Commodore  rejec 
ted;  but  for  the  sake  of  the  captives,  and  to  save  the 
further  effusion  of  blood,  offered  eighty  thousand,  a^d 
ten  thousand  for  presents.  After  beginning  to  treat 
with  the  French  commissary  general,  the  Bashaw  sus 
pended  the  negotiation,  saying  he  would  wait  the  result 
of  another  attack.  On  the  night  of  the  23d,  the  bomb 
vessels,  under  protection  of  the  gun-boats,  were  sent  in 
to  bombard  the  town.  The  bombardment  commenced 
at  two,  A.  M.  and  continued  till  daylight;  but,  as  it 
was  subsequently  ascertained,  without  much  effect. 

On  the  27th,  the  weather  proving  favorable,  the  Com 
modore  stood  in  for  Tripoli,  and  anchored  his  ship  two 
miles  N.  by  E,  from  Fort  English ;  the  light  vessels 
keeping  under  way.  A  number  of  his  officers,  and  many 
of  the  seamen  being  employed  in  the  boats,  Captain 
Chauncey,  with  several  of  his  officers,  and  about  se 
venty  seamen,  volunteered  their  services  on  board  the 
Constitution. 

The  gun-boats,  accompanied  by  the  Syren,  Argus, 
Vixen,  Nautilus,  Enterprise,  and  boats  of  the  squadron 
anchored  at  three  in  the  morning,  within  pistol  shot  of 
the  enemy's  lines,  with  springs  on  their  cables,  and  com 
menced  a  brisk  fire  on  their  shipping,  town,  batteries, 
and  castle,  which  was  warmly  returned.  The  ship's 
boats  remained  with  the  gun-boats,  to  assist  in  boarding 
the  flotilla,  in  case  it  should  come  out,  and  the  brigs  and 
schooners  were  kept  under  way  to  harass  the  enemy, 
or  to  assist  the  gun-boats.  At  day  light  apprehensive 
that  the  ammunition  in  the  gun-boats  must  be  nearly 
exhausted,  the  Commodore  weighed  anchor,  and  made 
signal  for  the  gun -boats  to  retire  from  action.  When 
arrived  within  a  sure  distance,  he  opened  his  battery 
with  round  and  grape  shot,  upon  thirteen  gun-boats  and 
gallies,  which  were  closely  engaged  with  ours,  sunk  one 
of  them,  disabled  two.  and  put  the  rest  to  flight.  He 


432  EDWARD    PREBLE. 

continued  running  in,  until  within  musket-shot  of  the 
batteries;  when  he  hove  to,  fired  three  hundred  round 
shot,  besides  grape  and  cannister,  into  the  Bashaw's 
castle,  the  town,  and  batteries.  He  silenced  the  castle, 
and  two  of  the  batteries,  and  a  little  after  six  hauled 
off.  The  gun-boats  fired  four  hundred  round  shot,  be 
sides  grape  and  cannister,  with  evident  effect. 

The  French  commissary  now  renewed  the  negotia 
tion  for  peace:  but  it  was  broken  off.  in  consequence,  as 
he  thought,  of  one  of  the  squadron  approaching  the  har 
bor  as  a  cartel;  which  he  said  was  interpreted  by  the 
ignorant  and  mistrustful  Bashaw,  as  a  proof  of  discour 
agement  on  the  part  of  the  invader. 

On  the  third  of  September,  the  bomb-ketches  be 
ing  repaired,  as  well  as  the  damages  sustained  by  the 
other  vessels  in  the  action  of  the  27th,  the  squadron  was 
again  ready,  and  disposed  for  another  attack  on  the  town 
and  batteries.  Between  three  and  four  o'clock  the  ac 
tion  commenced,  and  soon  became  general.  But  the 
wind  veering  to  the  northward,  and  beginning  to  blow 
fresh,  at  half  past  four,  P.  M.  he  gave  the  signal  to  re 
tire  from  action  under  cover  of  the  Constitution.  In  this 
engagement,  although  the  frigate  and  vessels  were  much 
damaged,  not  a  man  was  lost.  The  bomb  vessel,  com 
manded  by  Lieutenant  Robinson,  had  all  her  shrouds 
shot  away,  and  was  so  shattered  in  the  hull  as  to  be 
kept  above  water  with  difficulty.  The  Argus  recieved  a 
thirty-two  pound  shot  in  her  hull,  which  cut  away  a  bow 
er  cable,  as  it  entered,  and  which  so  checked  its  velo 
city,  that  it  fell  upon  deck  without  doing  injury. 

The  Commodore  had,  for  some  time,  contemplated 
sending  a  fire-ship  into  the  harbour  to  destroy  the  flotil 
la;  and,  at  the  same  time,  throw  a  quantity  of  shells 
into  the  town.  Captain  Somers  volunteered  in  this  ser 
vice,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Lieutenants  Wadsworth 
and  Israel,  fitted  out  the  ketch  Intrepid  for  this  expedi 
tion.  A  hundred  barrels  of  gunpowder,  and  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  fixed  shells,  were  placed  in  the  hold,  with 
fuses  and  combnstibles  so  applied  as  to  fire  them  with 
out  endangering  the  retreat  of  the  adventurers.  On  the 
evening  of  the  4th  September,  Captain  Somers  chose 


EfrWARD   PREBLE.  433 

two  fast  rowing  boats  from  the  squadron  to  bring  off  the 
people,  after  having  fired  the  vessel.  His  own  boat 
was  manned  by  four  seamen  from  the  Nautilus,  with 
Lieutenant  Wadsworth,  and  six  men  from  the  Constitu 
tion.  At  eight  they  parted  from  the  squadron  and 
stood  into  the  harbor,  convoyed  by  the  Argus,  Vixen, 
and  Nautilus,  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  batteries. 
Having  gained  the  inner  harbour,  and  got  near  to  the 
point  of  destination,  she  was  boarded  and  carried  by 
two  galleys  of  one  hundred  men  each.  At  this  moment 
she  exploded.  The  effect  was  awful.  Every  battery 
was  silenced,  and  not  a  gun  was  fired  afterward  during 
the  night.  Captain  Somers  is  said  to  have  declared  to 
a  friend,  that  in  case  he  should  be  boarded  he  would 
not  be  captured.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that, 
on  the  enemy  proving  successful,  the  Captain  seized  a 
quick-match,  and  touched  a  train  which  communicated 
instant  fire  to  the  mine;  by  which  he  and  his  compan 
ions  found,  with  the  enemy,  a  common  death. 

Nothing  occurred  after  this,  till  the  two  squadrons 
joined  on  fhe  9th  of  September.  Here  ended  Mr.  Pre- 
ble's  command,  so  honorable  to  himself,  and  in  both  its 
immediate  and  distant  consequences,  important  to  his 
country. 

All  joined  in  the  suffrage  to  the  distinguished  merits 
of  the  Commodore.  His  Holiness  the  Pope  is  said  to 
have  remarked,  that  he  had  done  more  towards  hum 
bling  the  anti-Christian  barbarians  on  that  coast,  than 
all  the  Christian  states  had  ever  done.  Sir  Alexander 
Ball,  in  a  letter  of  September  20th,  said,  "I  beg  to  re 
peat  my  congratulation  on  the  services  you  have  render 
ed  your  country,  and  the  hair-breadth  escapes  you  have 
had  in  setting  a  distinguished  example.  1  heir  bravery 
and  enterprise  are  worthy  a  great  and  rising  nation.  If 
I  were  to  offer  my  opinion,  it  would  be  that  you  have 
done  well  not  to  purchase  a  peace  with  the  enemy.  A 
few  brave  men  have,  indeed,  been  sacrificed,  but  they 
could  not  have  fallen  in  a  better  cause ;  and  I  even 
conceive  it  advisable  to  risk  more  lives,  rather  than  to 
submit  to  terms,  which  might  encourage  the  Barbary 
states^to  add  fresh  demands  and  insults." 

G3 


434  THOMAS  TRUXTUN. 

After  the  squadron  joined,  the  commodore  obtained 
leave  to  return  home,  where  he  was  received  and  treat 
ed  every  where  with  distinguished  attention. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1806,  the  health  of  Mr. 
Preble  began  to  decline.  Finding  that  the  inveteracy 
of  his  malady  bid  defiance  to  medical  skill,  he  resolved 
on  a  water  excursion  as  a  last  experiment;  but  it  resul 
ted  in  no  beneficial  effect.  He  breathed  his  last  on 
Tuesday  the  25th  of  August,  1807,  in  the  46th  year  of 
his  age.  On  the  day  of  his  funeral,  business  was  sus 
pended,  the  colours  were  displayed  at  half-mast  from 
the  shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  he  was  interred  with 
military  honors  and  the  ceremonies  of  religion  and 
masonry."* 


THOMAS  TRTJXTUN, 

Commodore  in  the  American  Navy. 

"THE  father  of  Captain   Truxtun    was  an  eminent 
counseller  of  the  bar,  in  the  then  colony  of  New  York, 
and  resided  on  Long  or  Nassau  Island,  where  the  Com 
modore  was  born  on  the  17th  of  February,  1755.     Hav 
ing  lost  his  father  at  an  early  age,  he  was  placed  under 
the  care  of  John  Troup,  Esq.  of  Jamaica,  Long-Island, 
a  gentleman   well  known  in  the  annals  of  the  war  be 
tween  France   and  England,  preceding   the  American 
revolution.     The   sea   was  his  favorite   element.      At 
twelve  years  of  age,  he  first  embarked  in  his  naval  ca 
reer,  under  a  Captain  Joseph  Holmes,  in  the  ship  Pitt, 
bound  for  Bristol,  England.     The  next  year,  he  sailed 
under   a   Captain   Chambers,  in   the    London    trade. 
\Vhile  yet  in  his  novitiate  he  was  impressed  on  board 
of  an  English  ship  of  war  of  sixty-four  guns,  during  the 
dispute  with  Spain  about  the    Falkland  Islands,  from 
which  ship  he  was  afterward  released,  through  the  in 
fluence  of  some  friends  in  power.     The  commander  of 
his   Britannic  Majesty's  ship  Prudent,  from  which  he 
was  discharged,  used  every  persuasion  to  induce  him  to 
remain  in  the  service  of  the  crown,  with  the  strongest 

^Roger's  Amer-  Biography. 


THOMAS    TRUXTUN.  435 

assurances,  that  every  exertion  should  be  used  for  his 
speedy  promotion,  but  without  effect,  as  he  immediate 
ly  returned  to  the  ship  and  service  from  which  he  had 
been  impressed. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  revolutionary  struggle  he 
forthwith  embarked  in  the  cause  of  the  colonies,  against 
the  unjust  oppression  of  Great  Britain,  and  early  in 
1775  had  the  command  of  an  armed  vessel,  with  which 
he  cruised  against  the  enemy  with  great  success.  In 
these  cruises  the  United  States  were  much  benefitted  by 
the  quantities  of  powder  which  were  found  on  board 
his  prizes,  of  which  articles  they  were  greatly  in  want. 
Toward  the  close  of  the  same  year,  when  on  a  voyage 
to  St.  Eustatia,  a  Dutch  island  and  in  the  West  Indies, 
in  a  letter  of  marque,  of  which  he  was  half  owner,  he 
was  captured  off  the  island  of  St.  Christopher's,  his  ves 
sel  condemned,  and  himself  released  under  the  provis* 
ions  of  the  general  restraining  act  of  the  British  Par 
liament.  From  St.  Christopher's  he  went  to  St.  Eusta- 
tia,  and  thence  to  Philadelphia.  His  next  cruise  was 
in  the  capacity  of  first-lieutenant  of  the  private  armed 
ship  Congress,  which  was  just  equipping  for  sea.  Du 
ring  the  early  part  of  the  winter  of  1776,  this  vessel, 
in  company  with  another  private  armed  vessel,  called 
the  Chance,  fitted  out  at  the  same  time,  made  several 
prizes  off  the  Havana,  which  were  very  valuable  home- 
bound  Jamaica  ship&,  going  through  the  Gulf  of  Florida. 
He,  as  prize-master,  brought  one  of  them  safe  into  the 
port  of  Bedford,  Massachusetts.  In  June  of  the  same 
year,  while  the  harbour  of  New-York  was  blockaded 
by  the  British  fleet,  previous  to  its  evacuation  by  the 
Americans,  be  made  his  way  to  sea,  through  the  Long^ 
Island  Sound,  in  a  vessel  called  the  Independence,  fit 
ted  out  by  himself  and  Isaac  Sears,  Esq.  and  placed  un 
der  his  command.  Off  the  Azores  or  Western  Isles,  he 
made  several  prizes  of  which  three  were  large  and  val 
uable  ships,  forming  a  part  of  the  Windward  Island 
fleet  under  convoy.  One  of  these  prizes,  carried  more 
guns  and  men  than  his  vessel.  The  proud  Englishmen, 
notwithstanding  their  vaunted  natural  prowess,  were 
obliged  to  strike  their  colours  to  an  inferior  force. 


436  THOMAS    TRUXTUN. 

Truxtun  next  directed  his  course  to  the  British  Channel, 
in  the  ship  Mars,  of  twenty  guns,  where  he  made  a  num 
ber  of  prizes,  several  of  which  he  sent  into  Quiberon 
Bay.  The  French  court,  from  a  desire  to  lessen  the 
strength  of  a  rival  power,  had  for  some  time  lent  a  se 
cret  aid  to  the  revolting  colonies,  yet  it  had  not  mani 
fested  their  hostile  intentions  so  openly  as  to  induce  the 
recal  of  the  British  minister  from  Versailles.  Hence, 
upoH  the  reception  of  those  prizes  into  a  French  port, 
the  British  ambassador.,  Lord  Stormont,  made  a  strong 
remonstrance  to  the  cabinet  protesting  against  the  ad 
mission  of  American  armed  vessels  and  prizes  into  the 
ports  of  France,  but  without  effect.  Truxtun,  after  this 
cruise,  domiciliated  himself  in  Philadelphia,  from  which 
port  he  sailed  during  the  remainder  of  the  war,  com 
manding  vessels,  of  which  he  was  in  general  part  owner. 
His  cruises  were  generally  successful. 

When  commanding  the  St.  James,  of  20  guns,  and 
one  hundred  men,  on  a  voyage  to  France  with  Thomas 
Barclay,  Esq.  the  Consul  General  from  the  revolted  col 
onies  to  that  country,  a  passenger  on  board,  he  fell  in 
with  a  British  private  ship  of  war,  mounting  32  guns 
and  a  proportionate  number  of  men,  consequently 
nearly  double  his  force.  After  a  severe  and  close  en 
gagement,  the  enemy  was  obliged,  to  sheer  off,  and  was 
afterward  towed  into  New-York  in  a  very  crippled  state. 
The  late  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  William  Jones.  Esq. 
acted  as  Captain  Truxtun's  third  lieutenant,  and  con 
ducted  himself  during  the  whole  engagement  with  such 
distinguished  bravery  that  he  was  shortly  after  promoted 
to  a  first-lieutenancy.  In  this  vessel,  Truxtun  retunred 
safe  to  Philadelphia  with  a  most  valuable  cargo.  He 
used  every  means  in  his  power  to  harass  the  enemy  on 
the  ocean,  during  every  period  of  the  war,  and  constant 
ly  evinced  the  most  consummate  skill  and  undaunted 
courage;  and  his  exertions  were  almost  universally 
crowned  with  complete  success.  He  likewise,  in  two 
instances,  distinguished  himself  on  land. 

On  the  return  of  peace,  he  continued  his  professional 
pursuits  between  this  country,  Europe,  and  Asia,  until 
1794.  when  the  lowering  appearances  of  our  affairs 


THOMAS    TRUXTUN.  437 

wit-h  Great  Britain,  in  consequence  of  the  conduct  of 
her  naval  commanders,  under  the  celebrated  Corn  order 
of  Council  in  1793,  induced  the  establishment  of  a  navy, 
which  they  could  then  do,  without  infracting  the  treaty 
of  peace,  which  prohibited  them  from  such  an  attempt 
for  twelve  years.  The  term  of  prohibition  had  just  ex 
pired.  Gen.  Washington,  then  President,  by  advice  and 
consent  of  the  senate,  appointed  him  captain  of  one  of 
the  six  ships  of  war,  which  had  been  ordered  to  be 
built.  But  the  building  of  these  vessels  was  suspended, 
in  consequence  of  the  treaty  of  1795.  On  the  abroga 
tion  of  the  consular  convention  with  France,  in  the  year 
1798,  during  the  administration  of  Mr.  John  Adams, 
Capt.  Truxtun  was  directed  to  superintend  the  building 
of  the  frigate  Constellation,  at  Baltimore,  of  which  he 
was  appointed  commander.  This  vessel  was  one  of  the 
first  which  put  to  sea  in  consequence  of  the  hostile  atti 
tude  assumed  by  the  United  States  towards  the  French 
Republic.  His  orders  were  to  cruise  in  the  West  India 
seas  for  the  protection  of  American  property.  The  9th 
of  February,  1799,  he  fell  in  with  the  French  frigate 
L'lnsurgente,  Captain  Barreau,  off  the  island  of  St. 
Nevis.  With  this  vessel,  he  commenced  a  severe  en 
gagement,  which  lasted  for  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  when 
the  Frenchman  struck;  but  not  until  his  ship  had  be 
come  a  mere  wreck.  The  Constellation,  mounting  36 
guns,  and  a  proportionate  crew,  lost  in  this  engagement, 
only  one  man  killed  and  two  wounded,  while  the  loss  on 
board  the  Insurgente,  mounting  forty-four  guns,  with 
four  hundred  and  seventeen  men,  was  twenty  killed  and 
forty-four  wounded.  With  his  prize,  he  put  into  Basse 
Terre,  St.  Christopher's,  where  he  refitted  and  returned 
to  America.  This  was  the  first  action  which  had  taken 
place  since  the  commencement  of  the  disturbance  be 
tween  the  United  States  and  France.  The  fame  of  the 
achievement  was  blazoned  abroad,  both  in  Europe  and 
America,  and  produced  the  commodore  the  most  flatter 
ing  marks  of  distinction.  The  merchants  at  Lloyd's 
Coffee  House,  London,  sent  him  a  present  of  a  service 
of  silver  plate,  with  a  suitable  device,  valued  at  upwards 
of  six  hundred  guineas.  The  captive  commander,  in  a 


438  THOMAS    TRUXTUN. 

letter  to  the  commodore,  while  he  lamented  the  unhappy 
posture  of  affairs  between  the  two  countries,  expressed 
himself  as  being  well  pleased,  that  the  chances  of  war 
had  thrown  him  into  such  gallant  and  brave  hands,  and 
thanked  the  commodore  for  his  generous  conduct  towards 
himself  and  his  crew. 

During  his  cruise  he  captured  many  private  armed 
and  other  vessels,  and  completely  cleared  those  seas  of 
the  French  cruisers,  by  which  so  many  depredations  had 
been  committed  on  the  American  and  English  commerce 
in  that  quarter. 

While  our  other  vesseles  of  war  were  busily  engaged 
in  convoying  the  American  commerce,  the  commodore, 
(a  title  acquired  by  courtesy,  as  the  laws  of  the  United 
States  know  of  no  such  officer)  heard  in  January,  1800, 
that  the  French  ship  of  war  La  Vengeance,  mounting  54 
guns,  with  a  complement  of  500  men,  was  lying  at  Gaii- 
daloupe  with  troops  and  several  general  officers  on 
board,  intending  to  put  to  sea.  He  immediately  changed 
his  cruising  ground,  and  endeavoured  to  fall  in  with  her, 
and,  if  possible,  to  bring  her  to  action.  The  superiority 
of  her  force  was,  in  a  great  measure,  counterbalanced 
by  a  complement  of  too  many  men  and  a  number  of 
troops. 

On  the  first  of  February,  his  wishes  were  gratified,  as 
he  descried  her  on  the  morning  of  that  day,  and  after 
twelve  hours  chase,  brought  her  to  action.  In  conse 
quence  of  having  too  many  troops,  and  a  great  number 
of  officers  on  board,  the  French  commander  was  unwil 
ling  to  risk  a  combat,  but  the  intentions  of  his  gallant 
antagonist  were  very  different.  An  engagement  took 
place,  and  after  a  close  action  of  nearly  five  hours,  the 
Frenchman  was  silenced.  During  a  squall,  while  the 
Americans  were  busily  engaged  in  clearing  their  ship, 
the  French  captain  effected  his  escape. 

This  he  was  enabled  to  do  by  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  although  prior  to  this  circumstance  he  had  struck 
his  colours,  as  he  afterward  acknowledged,  but  was  indu 
ced  to  renew  the  contest,  believing  it  to  be  the  intention 
of  his  antagonist  to  sink.  The  Vengeance  now  arrived 
at  Curacoa  in  a  very  shattered  condition,  having  lost  in 


THOMAS   TRUXTUN.  439 

the  engagement,  one  hundred  killed  and  wounded,  and 
all  her  masts  and  rigging  being  nearly  shot  away. 

Congress,  on  this  occasion  voted  Truxtun  an  emblem 
atic  medal,  for  his  gallantry  and  good  conduct. 

After  Mr.  Jefferson  entered  on  the  duties  of  the  presi 
dential  office,  the  commodore  was  ordered  to  the  Medi 
terranean.  From  some  cause  or  other,  he  declined  the 
service,  and  his  resignation  was  accepted,  and  another 
officer  succeeded  him.  Considering  his  resignation  as 
temporary,  he  some  time  afterward  wished  to  resume 
his  naval  command,  but  was  informed  that,  as  his  resig 
nation  had  been  final,  his  wishes  could  not  be  gratified. 
He  retired  to  Philadelphia,  to  enjoy  the  pleasing  scenes 
of  domestic  life,  until  1816,  when  the  citizens  of  the  city 
and  county  of  Philadelphia  evinced  their  respect  for  his 
various  services  rendered  them  in  the  most  perilous 
times,  by  electing  him  to  fill  the  important  office  of  sher 
iff,  the  duties  of  which  he  has  discharged  so  far  with 
general  satisfaction,  notwithstanding  that  his  elevation 
was  opposed  by  party  clamour  and  prejudice."* 

*Am.  Biog.  Dictionary. 


BIOGRAPHY 

OF 

GILBERT  MOTIER  L.A  FAYETTJE, 

« 

Major  General  in  the  American  Continental  Army. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Introductory  remarks — La  Fayette's  birth  and  education — his  prospect?  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  revolutionary  struggle — he  embarks  in  it,  anu  arrives  in  the  United  Stales. 

THE  illustrious  individual,  whose  life  and  character 
form  the  subject  of  the  following  pages,  has  claims  on 
America  which  have  always  been  felt  and  acknowledg 
ed;  but  his  presence  among  us  has  produced  sentiment* 
of  graitude  and  veneration  that  are  universal;  which 
animate  every  breast  and  warm  every  heart.  Whilst 
this  spontaneous  development  of  feeling,  the  free-will 
offering  of  a  great  and  powerful  people,  cannot  fail  of 
being  gratifying  to  him  on  whom  it  is  bestowed,  it  is 
highly  honourable  to  our  national  character.  But  there 
are  other  consideration,  connected  with  this  subject, 
which  deserve  more  attention;  we  allude  to  its  moral 
and  political  influence. 

Will  it  hereafter  be  claimed  "that  republics  are  un 
grateful?"  that  a  free  people  are  capricious  and  unjust? 
Let  the  spontaneous  homage   of  ten  millions   of  free- 
born  Americans  offered  to  LA  FAYETTR,  the  early -and 
steadfast  friend  of  their  country,  forever  put   at  rest  so 
base  a  calumny.     Where  can   be  found  so  sublime  and 
impressive  a  scene  as  that  which  the  United  State§  now 
presents?  It  is  in  vain  that  we  look  to%history  for  an  ex^ 
ample ;  the  annals  of  the  world  afford  none  ;  it  is  an  event 
that  stands   alone.      The  triumphs  of  the  greatest  and 
best  generals  of  Rome,  were   decreed  by  ihe    senate; 
and,  if  they  were  to  be  regarded  as  the  voluntary  act  of 
the   people,  they  could  enly  be   considered  as  splendid 
national  pageants,  wherein  gratitude  to  the  individual 
(o  whom  they  were   granted,  for  services  rendered,  or 

H3 


442  MAKQU1S    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

honour  conferred  on  his  country,  had  little  or  no  part*, 
and,  although  professedly  designed  in  honour  of  an  in 
dividual,  the  feelings  manifested  were  national  pride 
and  exultation  at  the  success  and  conquests  of  the  arms 
of  the  public.  If  the  Roman  triumph  had  been  a  tribute 
of  gratitude,  it  could  not  have  been  bestowed  on  such 
men  as  Sylla  and  Marius,  who  distracted  their  country 
with  civil  wars,  and  drenched  the  streets  with  the  noblest 
blood  of  Home. 

In  modern  times,  and  in  that  country  which  gave  birth 
to  the  man  who  is  the  subject  of  this  work,  the  world 
has  witnessed  a  display* of  national  feeling  equally  un 
exampled  and  sublime;  it  will  be  perceived  that  we  al 
luded  to  the  return  of  the  exile  of  Elba,  and  the  re-es 
tablishment  of  the  imperial  throne.  But  the  return  of 
Bonaparte  to  France,  and  the  visit  of  La  Fayette  to  the 
United  States,  are  entirely  dissimilar,  and  equally  un 
paralleled.  Like  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  the  French  peo 
ple  were  groaning  under  oppression,  which  was  in  some 
measure  considered  of  foreign  origin,  as  it  had  been  es 
tablished  by  foreign  bayonets.  Napoleon,  therefore,  was 
regarded  as  a  deliverer,  and  it  is  to  this  fact  that  the  en 
thusiasm  of  the  people  is  to  be  attributed.  Feelings 
humbled  at  the  degradation  of  the  nation,  and  exaspera 
ted  at  the  insolence  of  power  and  the  arrogance  and 
rapacity  of  the  old  nobility,  who  had  returned,  the  people 
flew  to  their  late  emperor,  as  a  deliverer,  and  received 
him  with  open  arms  and  the  warmest  enthusiasm. 

The  reception  of  La  Fayette,  in  the  United  Stales, 
was  entirely  different;  the  manifest  tat  ion  of  feeling  was 
of  a  different  character,  and  proceeded  from  different 
sources.  He  was  not  received  as  a  conqueror,  nor  hail 
ed  AS  a  deliverer;  neither  is  this  demonstration  of  feel-/ 
ing,  a  sudden  impulse  of  joy  or  passion,  for  any  recent 
service  or  achievement  conferring  benefit  or  honour  on 
our  country;  but  it  is  a  sentiment  of  gratitude,  deeply 
implanted  in  the  breast,  and  revived  by  his  presence,  for 
the  most  distinguished  philanthropy  and  disinterested 
services,  performed  nearly  half  a  century  ago,  and  which 
contributed  to  establish  the  independence  and  liberties 
of  OUT  country.  Ye  monarchs  and  lordlings  of  the  earth. 


MARQUIS   DE  LA    FAYETTE,  443 

who  regard  mankind  in  the  light  you  do  the  servant*  of 
your  household,  as  the  mere  instruments  of  your  ambi 
tion  and  gratifications,  abandon,  for  a  moment,  your 
shemes  of  ameliorating  the  condition  of  your  people,  by 
restricting  their  rights  and  privileges  and  checking  the 
exuberance  of  liberty,  and  turning  your  attention  to 
America,  witness  the  reward  of  a  man  who  is  the  enemy 
of  tyrants  and  oppression,  and  whose  life  and  blood  have 
been  devoted  to  the  cause,  of  liberty  and  the  rights  o£ 
mankind.  Behold,  though  it  "blast  your  eye-balls," 
the  unbought  and  unbrided  homage  of  a  free  and  great 
people,  offered  to  their  benefactor,  the  friend  of  America, 
the  friend  of  liberty.  What  a  sublime  spectacle,  to 
witness  an  entire  naton,  after  the  lapse  of  half  a  century, 
opening  their  hearts,  in  gratitude  and  honour  of  a  hero 
and  patriot,  who  had  assisted  to  break  the  chains  which 
enslaved  their  country,  and  to  establish  its  freedom! 
How  unlike  the  empty  pageant  of  coronations  and  roy 
al  festivals,  where  a  constrained  homage  is  offered  by 
slaves  to  their  masters;  wbor  whilst  receiving  hoaour 
from  the  lips,  must  be  sensible  that  the  heart  is  often 
ready  to  break  forth  in  curses.  Can  the  moral  and  po 
litical  effect  of  this  event  be  lost?  Will  it  not  have  an 
influence  in  Europe  on  all  enlightened  and  noble  minds, 
with  whom  the  respect  of  mankind  and  the  veneration  of 
posterity,  are  the  richest  reward  and  the  only  honoura 
ble  object  of  human  ambition? 

As  America  has  been  the  theatre  of  the  earliest  and 
most  successful  exertions  of  LaFayette  in  the  cause  of 
liberty-;  and  as  it  is  here  that  the  fruits  of  his  toils,  sac 
rifices  and  blood,  have  ripened  to  maturity,  and  promise 
to  be  as  lasting  as  his  renown;  as  it  is  here  that  his 
memory  will  be  cherishe,d  and  revered  to  the  latest  pos 
terity,  it  seems  to  belong  to  America  to  perpetuate  hrs* 
fame,  and  to  preserve  a  record  of  his  deeds  and  virtues. 
This  is  a  part  of  the  debt  of  gratitude  we  owe  him.  His 
life,  like  that  of  our  own  Washington,  should  be  put 
into  the  hands  of  our  youth  universallyvthat  the  name  of 
the  adopted  son  of  the  "Father  of  his  Country,"  the  friend 
of  America  and  humanity,  the  hero,  patriot,  and  philan 
thropist,  should  be  as  familiar,  in  this,  his  adopted  coun- 


444  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

try,  with  all  succeeding  generations,  as  it  is  with  the 
present ;  SD  that  the  respect  and  veneration  felt  for  it  may 
be  as  lasting  as  his  fame,  as  extensive  as  his  renown. 

The  ancient  province  of  Auvergne,  now  the  depart 
ment  de  la  Hante  Loire,  gave  birth  to  GILBERT  MOTIER, 
Marquis  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  He  was  born  on  the  6th  of 
September,  1757,  at  the  Chateau  de  Chavagnac,  situated 
about  two  leagues  distance  from  Brioude,  in  the  afore 
said  department.  Marshal  De  La  Fayette,  one  of  the 
ancestors  of  the  general,  sustained  a  great  military  rep 
utation,  and  Madame  De  La  Fayette,  a  relation  of  his, 
is  advantageously  known  in  the  literature  of  France. 
His  father  fell  in  the  battle  of  Rossbach,  on  the  5th  of 
Nov.  1757,  surviving  the  birth  of  his  son  but  two  months. 

At  the  tender  age  of  seven  years,  yo.ung  Motier  was 
sent  to  the  college  of  Louis  Le  Grand,  at  Paris,  where  he 
received  the  rudiments  of  his  education.  How  long  he 
remained  here  is  uncertain;  but  at  the  early  period  of 
fifteen,  he  was  enrolled  among  the  Mousquetaries  du 
Hoi,  and  before  this  time  he  had  been  made  one  of  the 
pages  of  the  Queen  of  France.  From  the  patronage  of 
the  queen,  he  soon  rase  to  the  rank  of  a  commissioned 
officer,  a  favour  seldom  conferred,  except  on  the  sons  of 
the  mostdistinguished  of  the  nobility.  Young  Fayette 
was  in  every  respect  a  precocious  youth,  and  in  1774, 
when  but  seventeen  years  of  age,  he  was  married  to  the 
Countess  Anastasie  de  Noailles,  daughter  of  the  duke 
of  that  name:  considerations  of  family  interest,  as  well 
as  mutim!  affection,  concurred  in  producing  this  union; 
which,  whilst  it  made  him  happy  in  the  possession  of  an 
amiable  and  -accomplished  lady,  less  ennobled  from  her 
birth  than  the  goodness  of  her  heart  and  the  endowments 
of  her  mind,  largely  augmented  his  fortune,  which  before 
was  sufficiently  ample.  He  was  now  in  the  possession 
of  an  rstate  affording  an  annual  income  of  more  than 
150,000  francs,  a  princely  fortune,  at  that  time,  when 
money  was  worth  much  more  than  it  is  at  present. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  La  Fayette  when  the  con 
test  between  Great  Britain  and  her  American  colonies 
began  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  world ;  whilst  yet  in 
a  state  of  minority,  possessing  rank,  wealth,  the  favour. 


MARQUIS    DE    LA   FAYETTE  445 

of  the  queen,  surrounded  by  all  the  pleasures  of  a  lux 
urious  capital  and  voluptuous  court,  so  seducing  to  youth, 
and  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  domestic  felicity.  The 
fairest  prospects,  also,  of  preferment  and  fame,  were 
open  to  him;  so  that  whether  ambition  or  pleasure  was 
the  governing  motive,  he  was  equally  surrounded  by 
the  strongest  attractions  conducing  to  confine  him  to  his 
home  and  his  country. 

A  distant  people  are  struggling  for  their  rights;  the 
hand  of  oppression  bears  heavily  on  them;  their  voice 
has  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  reached  the  shores  of 
France;  the  philanthropists  and  friends  of  liberty  feel 
a  deep  interest  in  the  cause  of  the  sufferers,  and  their 
most  lively  sympathies  are  excited.  Young  La  Fayette, 
whilst  surrounded  with  all  the  allurements  and  fascina 
tions  of  pleasure,  was  most  strongly  affected  with  this 
noble  sympathy;  his  benevolent  heart  and  ardent  mind 
would  not  permit  him  to  remain  merely  a  well-wisher 
to  the  cause  of  independence  and  liberty  in  America, 
but  prompted  him  to  offer  his  services  and  his  fortune 
to  this  glorious  cause.  He  felt  that  the  cause  of  the 
Americans  was  just,  that  it  was  the  cause  of  liberty 
and  humanity.  He  did  not,  however,  act  from  the  im 
pulse  of  the  heart;  but  examined  the  subject,  ami  made 
himself  master  of  the  controversy  between  the  colonies 
and  their  parent  country,  which  satisfied  him  of  the 
justice  of  the  cause  of  the  colonies,  and  confirmed  him 
in  the  determination  to  embark  in  it,  as  a  volunteer. 
Accordingly  he  presented  himself  before  the  American 
Commissioners,  at  Paris,  and  acquainted  them  with 
his  intention  of  taking  a  part  in  the  contest,  if  his  servi 
ces  should  be  deemed  of  any  importance.  The  sagaci 
ty  of  Dr.  Franklin  seldom  erred,  and  discovering  the 
indications  of  valour  and  greatness  in  this  youthful  pat 
riot,  his  offer  was  readily  accepted.  .  This  was  in  1776, 
and  not  long  after  the  disastrous  intelligence  reached 
Europe  of  the  defeat  of  the  Americans  on  Long  Island, 
their  evacuation  of  New  York,  the  dispersion  of  the 
American  troops,  and  the  flight  of  the  small  remains  of 
the  continental  army,  through  NewJersey,  pursued  by 
a  large  British  force,  which  completely  annihilated  the 


446  MARQ.U1S   DE   LA   FAYETTE. 

little  credit  the  Americans  had  acquired  in  Europe.  It 
was  supposed,  even  by  their  friends,  that  the  cause  of  the 
colonists  was  destroyed  in  the  bud;  the  flame  of  liberty, 
which  had  burst  forth  with  such  splendour,  was  believed 
to  be  extinguished  by  the  first  blast  of  power,  like  the 
taper's  blaze.  Opinions  which  are  suddenly  formed, 
and  upon  superficial  knowledge,  are  as  suddenly  chan 
ged  or  given  up,  and  from  very  slight  circumstances. 
At  this  period  a  dark  cloud  hung  over  the  destinies  of 
America,  and  perhaps  of  the  human  race,  as  it  is  uncer 
tain  to  what  extent  the  latter  are  identified  with  the 
former,  so  far  as  they  depend  on  civil  liberty.  As  the 
efforts  and  power  of  the  Americans  were  apparently 
crushed,  many  of  the  most  enlightened  and  patriotic 
friends  of  liberty  in  Europe,  began  to  think  that  they 
had  attached  more  importance  to  the  contest  than  it 
deserved;  that  the  movements  which  had  taken  place 
were  rather  to  be  attributed  to  the  zeal  of  the  leaders 
and  the  sudden  exasperated  feelings  of  the  people,  than 
to  a  deep  sense  of  injustice,  or  any  definite  ideas  of 
their  political  rights,  or  settled  determination  to  main 
tain  them. 

So  unfavourable  and  extensive  was  the   influence  of 
this  disastrous  intelligence,  that  the  American  Commis 
sioners  at  Paris,  had   not  sufficient  credit  to  procure  a 
vessel  to  facilitate  the  enterprise  of  La    Fayette;  and 
under   such   circumstances,  they    believed  that  justice 
and   honor  required  them  to  dissuade  him  from  his  un 
dertaking  for  the  present.     But  their  efforts  were  una 
vailing;  so  ardently  had  the   feelings  of  the   youthful 
patriot,  become  enlisted   in  the  cause  of  America,  that 
they  were  not  to  be  stifled  by  the   reverses   which    it 
had   experienced.     4il  have  done   nothing,"  said  he  to 
the    American   Commissioners,  "hitherto,  but   admire 
your  cause ;  but  now  I  mean  to  serve  it ;  the  more  hope 
less  it  is  in  the  public   estimation,  the  more  honour  I 
shall  gain  by  espousing  its  interests.     Since  it  is  out  of 
your  power  to  procure  a  vessel,  I  will  purchase  and 
equip   one  myself;  and    I  take  upon  myself  to  be  the 
bearer  of  your  despatches  to  congress*" 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  447 

It  is  impossible  sufficiently  to  admire  the  conduct, 
and  duly  to  appreciate  the  motives  of  La  Fayette. 
This  was  not  the  bold  enterprise  of  an  adventurer,  who 
had  nothing  to  lose,  and  little  to  expect  at  home;  nei 
ther  was  he  influenced  by  motives  of  ambition,  as  it 
was  not  necessary  for  him  to  visit  a  foreign  country  for 
distinction  or  preferment;  but  it  was  his  love  of  liberty, 
his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  humanity,  with  the  desire 
of  honorable  fame,  that  led  him  to  become  the  youthful 
champion  of  the  cause  of  America;  and  foregoing  all 
the  pleasures  of  the  capital  and  the  court,  and  the  more 
substantial  enjoyments  of  domestic  felicity,  to  devote 
his  life  and  his  fortune  to  its  service.  To  leave  such  en 
joyments  and  prospects  at  home,  and  engage  in  the 
cause  pf  a  distant  and  foreign  people,  at  a  time  too, 
when  that  cause  was  regarded  as  nearly  hopeless,  with 
out  any  motive  or  expectation  of  personal  advantage, 
evinced  such  ardour  and  devotion  to  liberty,  as  cannot 
fail  of  inciting  the  admiration  of  the  enlightened  and 
patriotic,  of  all  succeeding  ages. 

The  intended  enterprise  of  La  Fayette,  having  be 
come  known,  active  exertions  were  made  to  discourage 
him,  and  defeat  it.  Some  were  actuated  from  real 
friendship  to  him,  and  others  from  a  secret  hostility  to 
the  cause  in  which  he  was  about  to  engage.  Among 
other  reasons  urged  to  dissuade  him,  he  was  told  that 
the  king  would  be  seriously  displeased,  should  he  inter 
fere  in  a  matter  of  snch  moment,  and  that  if  he  persis 
ted,  he  would  expose  himself  to  serious  consequences. 

But  the  most  difficult  and  delicate  point,  came  near 
er  to  his  heart.  How  could  he  separate  himself  from 
a  young  and  affectionate  wife,  to  whom  he  had  been  but 
recently  united?  This  was  the  most  trying  difficulty; 
it  required  all  his  resolution  and  philosophy.  It  was 
impossible  to  believe  that  she  could  be  induced  to  con 
sent  to  a  measure,  which  was  to  separate  her  from  the 
partner  of  her  bosom,  whom  she  so  tenderly  loved,  and 
expose  him  to  the  perils  of  a  voyage,  and  the  more  cer 
tain  dangers  of  war.  The  excitement,  and  almost  dis 
traction  of  her  feelings,  -would  view  such  a  parting  in 
the -light  of  a  final  separation.  To  avoid  her  opposition. 


448  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

and  perhaps  even  fearing  that  the  remonstrances,  the 
tears  and  entreaties  of  a  beloved  wife,  might  even 
shake  the  firmness  of  his  purpose,  he  concealed  his 
ohject  from  her  as  much  as  possible:  but  as  she  could 
not  be  kept  wholly  ignorant  of  his  movements,  he  caus 
ed  it  to  be  represented  to  her,  that  he  was  going  to 
America  on  a  private  mission,  and  that  he  would  soon 
return.  To  avoid  a  scene  which  would  be  equally  dis 
tressing  to  both,  she  was  not  informed  of  his  departure, 
until  after  he  had  sailed.  He  purchased  and  equipped 
the  vessel  himself,  and  brought  out  a  quantity  of  military 
stores,  all  of  which  were  paid  for  from  his  private  funds. 

After  it  was  publicly  known,  that  the  young  Marquis 
intended  to  embark  for  America,  the  government  made 
a  show  of  opposition  to  it;  and  orders  were  actually  is 
sued  to  prevent  his  sailing.  This  however,  was  only  an 
instance  of  the  Mac.hiavelian  policy  of  courts,  intended 
to  deceive  the  British  minister,  and  to  preserve  the  ap 
pearance  of  neutrality.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  suppo 
sed,  that  the  British  cabinet  was  deceived  by  this  dupli 
city  ;  they  were  aware  of  the  secret  views  and  designs 
of  the  French  government,  with  respect  to  America. 
But  the  professions  and  appearances  of  neutrality,  as 
long  as  they  could  be  kept  up,  were  necessary,  to  prevent, 
or  at  least  postpone  a  rupture  with  Britain.  And  al 
though  the  cabinet  of  Great  Britain,  was  fully  sensible 
of  the  secret  designs  of  France,  and  aware  that  her 
government  connived  at  the  enterprises  of  its  citizens, 
they  wished  to  avoid  a  rupture  with  her,  if  possible. 

France  and  Great  Britain,  if  not  ancient  and  natural 
enemies,  as  is  often  considered,  had  long  been  rivals,  and 
jealous  of  each  other's  power.  After  a  long  and  obsti 
nate  contest,  a  peace  had  a  few  years  previous,  been 
concluded  between  them,  less  for  the  purpose  of  main 
taining  tranquility,than  that  of  recovering  strength,  and 
preparing  to  renew  hostilities,  when  it  could  be  more 
advantageously  done.  It  would  be  natural  to  believe, 
therefore,  that  France,  standing  in  this  situation  to 
wards  Great  Britain,  being  jealous  of  her  growing  pow 
er  in  America,  would  view  with  secret  satisfaction,  the 
difficulties  between  this  powerful  rival  and  her  Ameri- 


MARQUIS    1)E    LA    FAYETTE.  449 

«a/n  colonies,  which  had  been  increasing  since  1764, 
and  had  finally  terminated  in  an  open  rupture.  In  the 
late  war,  which  had  been  principally  carried  on  in 
America,  France  became  too  well  acquainted  with  the 
immense  importance  to  Britain,  of  her  colonies,  and 
how  largely  they  contributed  to  carrying  on  hostilities, 
not  to  be  sensible  that  their  separation  from  Britain, 
would  be  the  loss  of  the  right  arm  of  her  power.  As 
the  rival  and  enemy  of  Britain,  she  felt  a  strong  inter 
est  in  favor  of  the  Americans;  but  was  unwilling  to 
compromit  her  peace  with  that  power,  until  the  progress 
of  events  might  afford  stronger  assurance  of  the  stabil 
ity  and  ultimate  success  of  the  American  cause.  It 
being  the  policy  of  the  French  government,  therefore 
to  assist  the  Americans,  yet  at  the  'same  time,  to  keep 
up  the  appearances  of  neutrality,  until  matters  should 
arrive  at  such  maturity,  as  to  dictate  a  different  line  of 
conduct,  the  ministry  could  not  openly  approve  of  the 
enterprise  of  the  Marquis,  \vho  held  a  place  rn  the  roy 
al  household,  although  they  secretly  encouraged  it, 
whilst  they  adopted  public  measures,  with  the  ostensible 
view  of  preventing  it.  The  slightest  knowledge  of  the 
strict  police  of  the  old  government  of  France,  under 
Louis  XV.  and  his  successor,  would  prevent  the  belief 
for  a  moment,  that  the  Marquis  could  have  embarked 
in  a  foreign  enterprise,  of  a  military  nature,  if  the  gov 
ernment  had  been  disposed  to  prevent  it. 

On  the  19th  of  April,  1777,  La  Fayette  arrived  at 
Charleston,  South  Carolina,  and  proceeded  immedi 
ately,  to  lay  before  Congress,  then  in  session  at  Phila 
delphia,  the  despatches  and  letters  which  had  been 
entrusted  to  him,  bv  the  American  Commissioners  at 
Paris.  His  language,  on  presenting  himself  to  Congress,- 
was  worthy  of  the  object  of  his  mission,  and  the  char 
acter  which  he  has  since  acquired: — "I  am  come,"  said 
he,  "to  request  two  favours  of  this  house;  the  one,  to 
serve  in  your  army  in  the  capacity  of  a  volunteer;  the 
other,  to  receive  no  pay."  That  enlightened  body  duly 
appreciated  the  noble  and  disinterested  conduct  of  this 
youthful  patriot,  and  were  fully  sensible  of  the  influence 
it  might  have  on  the  cause  confided  to  their  wisdom* 

13 


450  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

Considering  his  rank  and  family,  his  connexion  with  the 
French  government,  the  strong  recommendations  of  the 
American  Commissioners,  and  above  all,  his  distinguish 
ed  patriotism,  Congress,  in  July  following,  adopted  the 
following  resolution: — "Whereas,  the  Marquis  La  Fay- 
ette,  in  consequence  of  his  ardent  zeal  for  the  cause  of 
liberty,  in  which  the  United  States  are  engaged,  has 
left  his  family  and  friends,  and  crossed  the  ocean  at 
his  own  expense,  to  offer  his  services  to  the  United 
States,  without  wishing  to  accept  of  any  pension  or 
pay  whatsoever;  and  as  he  earnestly  desires  to  engage 
in  our  cause,  Congress  have  resolved,  that  his  services 
l>e  accepted,  and  that  in  consideration  of  his  patriotism, 
his  family,  and  illustrious  relations,  he  shall  hold  the 
rank  and  commission  of  Major  General,  in  the  army  of 
the  United  States." 

Thus  were  the  fortunes  of  a  young  nobleman,  whilst 
yet  in  a  state  of  minority,  possessing  wealth,  rank,  pow 
erful  friends,  and  in  a  word,  every  thing  to  endear  him 
to   home,  and  to  his  country,  connected   with  those  of 
America,  in  the  doubtful  contest  in  which  she  was  en 
gaged,  for  her   independence  and  liberty.     It  might  be 
too  much  to  say,  that  this  event  had  a  decisive  influence 
on  the  destiny  of  both ;  but  that  it  had  an  important 
one,  cannot  now  be  doubted.     The  fate  of  nations  has 
often  depended  on  events  less  important  than  this.     The 
example   of  La  Fayette,  and  the  distinguished  honour 
he  acquired,  had  a  powerful    influence  on  his  country 
men;  the  cause  of  America  became  popular  in  France; 
a  patriotic  ardour  was  excited,  and   so  many  were  em 
ulous  to  engage  in  the  American  service,  that  the  Com 
missioners  at  Paris  were  in  no  small  degree  embarras 
sed   from  the  number  of  applications.     The  exertions 
and  influence  of  the  Marquis,  and  his  numerous  friends 
at  home,  must  in  some  degree,  have  contributed  to  the 
assistance   afforded  by    France  to    the  States;  and  his 
patriotic  conduct,  and    unbounded  liberality,  devoting 
both  his  services  and  his  fortune  to  the  cause,  had   a 
happy  influence  in  America.     But  whatever  effect  this 
event   may  have  had  on  the  glorious  revolution    with 
which  it  is  connected,  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  its 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  451 

happy  influence  on  the  character  and  life  of  the  Mar 
quis;  it  fixed  his  character,  confirmed  his  principles,  and 
made  him  one  of  the  most  distinguished  patriots  of  his 
own,  or  any  other  age.  Had  he  never  served  in  the 
United  States,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  been  a  pa 
triot  in  his  feelings  and  opinions,  and  a  friend  of  popu 
lar  rights;  but  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  he  would 
have  been  a  republican  in  his  principles,  or  so  ardently 
devoted  to  civil  liberty.  A  man's  principles  do  not 
operate  with  full  force,  when  they  depend  on  speculative 
ideas;  it  is  only  by  devoting  our  talents,  our  services, 
our  blood  or  fortunes,  to. the  defence  of  principles,  that 
causes  them  to  be  revered,  or  their  truth  and  impor 
tance  justly  appreciated.  The  American  Revolution, 
was  a  school  of  liberty;  and  its  instructions  made  a 
lasting  impression  on  the  minds  of  all  engaged  in  it; 
and  on  none  more  than  the  adopted  son  of  Washington, 


CHAPTER  II. 

Congress  give  a  Commission  to  La  Fayette,  and  he  joins  the  Army — Sketch  of  the 
events  of  the  war — Battle  of  Brandy  wine,  in  w.hich  La  Fayette  was  wounded-  he 
defeats  a  party  of  Hessians  a«d  grenadiers  in  New-Jersey — has  the  command  of 
a  division  assigned  him — are  disciplined,  aruied  and  equipped  by  himself — Sketches 
of.  the  events  of  the  war — Situation  of  the  American  army  at  Valley  Forge — 
Exertions  and  influence  of  La  Fayette,.  to  allay  jealousies  towards  the  commander 
in  chief. 

WASHINGTON  had  a  wonderful  sagacity  and  discrimina* 
lion,  as  to  the  character  and  qualities  of  men;  and  he 
at  once  received  the  most  favorable  impressions,  from 
the  young  volunteer:  his  unobtrusive  deportment,  his 
modest  assurance,  and  his  sincerity,  afforded  a  pres 
age  of  his  future  character.  He  possessed  in  an  unu 
sual  degree  the  rare  qualities  of  securing  the  affections 
of  all  who  knew  him.  Washington  immediately  became 
ardently  attached  to  him;  and  admitted  him  into  his. 
own  family  as  his  adopted  son.  He  declined  for  some 
time,  to  assume  the  commission  and  rank  assigned  him 
by  Congress;  and  when  urged  by  Washington  to  do  it, 
he  replied,  "that  he  was  not  as  yet  capable  of  dischar 
ging  the  duties  of  so  important  a  post;  that  he  must 
begin  by  being  instructed  himself,  and  by  learning  to 
obey,  before  he  took  upon  himself  to  command." 


452  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

This  reasonable  diffidence  in  himself,  considering  his- 
youth  and  want  of  experience,  whilst  it  increased  the 
confidence  of  Washington  in  his  abilities,  was  calcula 
ted  to  allay  the  jealousy,  and  secure  the  esteem  of  all 
his  associates  in  arms. 

The  young  Marquis  repaired  to  the  American  camp 
in  New-Jersey,  to  take  a  part  in  the  strife  of  arms;  he 
immediately  showed  a  promptitude  and  readiness  in 
attention  to  duty;  he  examined  whatever  was  within 
his  observation,  and  applied  himself  with  great  diligence, 
to  obtain  information  of  every  thing  concerning  the 
service,  and  the  condition  and  -resources  of  the  country. 
By  accepting  the  numerous  invitations  given  him,  he 
soon  became  acquainted  with  the  officers,  and  from  his 
frank  and  unassuming  deportment,  and  easy  and  agree 
able  manners,  he  acquired  m,my  friends.  His  charac 
teristic  generosity,  soon  began  to  display  itself;  on 
learning  the  wants  of  General  Moultrie,  he  sent  him 
complete  uniforms  and  epuipments  for  one  hundred  and 
fifty  soldiers  under  his  command. 

As  it  was  in  the  American  revolutionary  war,  that  the 
character  of  La  Fayette  was  formed,  and  his  principles 
established ;  as  that  was  the  theatre  of  his  first  and  most 
successful  exertions  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  as  this 
portion  of  his  life  is  most  interesting  to  Americans^  and 
at  this  time  secures  to  him  the  united  homage  of  the 
entire  population  of  our  country,  it  becomes  necessary 
to  detail  such  of  the  events  of  that  memorable  contest, 
as  will  do  justice  to  the  exertions  and  merit  of  our  youth 
ful  hero. 

The  rising  Sun  of  the  American  revolution,  which 
beamed  with  so  much  effulgence  at  Bunker's-Hill,  was 
soon  overcast  with  impervious  clouds.  The  blood  which 
drenched  the  soil  of  Lexington  electrified  the  country, 
and  the  people  were  ready  to  rush  to  arms,  to  avenge 
their  injured  countrymen,  and  punish  so  daring  an  out 
rage  on  the  rights  of  freemen.  The  militia  of  Massachu 
setts,  Connecticut  and  New-Hampshire,  collected  at 
Boston,  and  the  heights  of  Bunkers  Hill  first  signalized 
their  valour,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  mercenaries  of 
Britain.  The  seat  of  war  being  transferred  to  New 


MARQUIS    Dfi    LA    FAYETTE.  453 

York,  the  militia  concentrated  at  that  place,  and  Wash 
ington  near  the  close  of  the  year  1776,  found  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  numerous  body  of  men,  hastily  levied, 
without  experience  or  discipline,  and  in  a  considerable 
degree,  without  equipments  or  arms.  Little  reliance 
could  be  placed  on  such  a  force,  and  if  possible  its  effi 
ciency  was  less  than  the  moderate  expectation  of  the 
commander  in  chief.  The  unfortunate  attempt  to  de 
fend  New-York,  soon  dispersed  this  large  nominal  force. 
The  fatigues  and  hardships  of  the  camp,  even  in  a  few 
weeks  cooled  the  ardour  that  had  been  raised,  and  as 
their  term  of  service  was .  short,  the  militia  returned 
home  as  hastily  as  they  had  collected,  and  Washington 
was  left  with  the  small  wreck  of  an  undisciplined  force; 
with  which  he  was  compelled  to  fly  from  place  to  place, 
through  New  Jersey.  Rapidly  pursued  by  Cornwallis, 
Washington's  escape  at  Newark,  Brunswick,  Princeton 
and  Trenton  must  be  regarded  as  almost  miraculous. 
Nothing  but  the  dilatory  measures  and  blunders  of  Gen. 
Howe,  saved  the  small  remnant  of  the  continental  armv ; 
which  after  crossing  the  Delaware,  amounted  to  no  more 
than  seventeea  hundred  men;  the  Jersey,  Maryland, and 
Pennsylvania  militia  having  abandoned  him  the  moment 
their  term  of  service  expired,  and  although  it  was  appa 
rent  that  the  country  was  in  the  most  critical  situation, 
yet  no  considerations  would  induce  them  to  stay  a  single 
day.  Availing  themselves  of  their  successes  and  the 
despondency  and  alarm  which  had  been  spread  through 
the  colonies,  the  two  Howes  issued  a  proclamation  in 
the  name  of  his  Britanic  Majesty,  commanding  all  per 
sons  to  desist  from  acts  of  treason  and  rebellion,  and 
promising  a  free  pardon  to  all  who  should  return  to  their 
business  and  homes.  This  proclamation  had  an  aston 
ishing  effect  on  men  of  weak  nerves,  easy  principles,, 
and  large  fortunes;  thousands  who  had  been  ardent  in 
the  cause,  abandoned  it  in  this  hour  of  despondency, 
and  thinking  only  of  the  security  of  their  persons  and 
property,  they  began  to  view  the  subject  of  dispute  in  a 
new  lightTand  thought  that  the  conduct  of  mother  Brit 
ain  was  not  so  bad  as  to  justify  involving  the  country  in 
the  dreadful  evils  of  a  civil  war.  This  was  the  darkest 


454  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

day  in  the  American  revolution;  the  hearts  of  all  real 
patriots  sunk  within  them,  yet  they  did  not  despair;  but 
with  a  large  portion  of  the  people,  the  contest  was  con 
sidered  as  decided,  and  it  certainly  was  by  the  British. 
Congress  was  without  an  army;  without  a  cent  in  the 
treasury,  and  apparently  no  prospect  of  recruiting  either ; 
but  what  was  more  alarming,  the  confidence  of  the  na 
tion  was  destroyed,  and  the  spirit  that  had  animated 
the  people  was  gone,  which  paralyzed  all  exertion. — 
What  remained  but  hope  and  the  protection  of  Provi 
dence? 

It  was  at  this  gloomy  period  that  the  young  French 
patriot,  fully  aware  of  these  alarming  circumstances, 
and  against  the  dissuasions  of  the  American  commis 
sioners,  engaged  in  the  cause  of  American  independence 
and  liberty,  at  the  very  time  when  it  was  forsaken  at 
home  by  thousands  who  had  embraced  it.  This  hon 
ourable  conduct  in  a  foreigner,  contrasted  with  that  of 
those  Americans,  who  in  the  day  of  adversity  were 
ready  to  abandon  the  cause  of  freedom  and  their  coun 
try,  served  to  exhibit  the  disgracefulness  and  criminality 
of  the  Jatter,  in  a  more  glaring  light. 

But  Washington  did  not  believe,  as  he  informed  Col. 
Reed,  "that  his  neck  was  made  for  a  halter;"  he  did 
not  despair  of  the  republic;  and  having  increased  his 
force  to  about  five  thousand,  principally  however  raw 
militia,  he  recrossed  the  Delaware,  and  surprised  and 
captured  near  one  thousand  Hessians.  This  event, 
which  revived  the  despondent  spirit  of  the  Americans, 
was  soon  followed  by  his  almost  miraculous  escape  at 
Trenton,  which  turned  to  his  own  advantage,  and  ter 
minated  in  the  defeat  of  the  enemy  at  Princeton.  These 
events  revived  the  hopes  if  not  the  confidence  of  the 
most  despondent,  and  threw  a  shade  of  light  over  the 
dark  prospect  which  prevailed. 

So  small  and  inefficient  however  were  the  American 
forces,  that  Washington  was  unable  to  undertake  any 
other  enterprise;  he  retired  to  Morristown,  where  he  re 
mained  during  the  winter,  depending  for  his  security, 
less  on  his  numbers  and  strength,  than  the  ignorance  of 
General  Howe  of  his  weakness;  which  was  so  great 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  455 

that  at  some  periods,  he  could  not  have  mustered  five 
hundred  men  fit  for  duty. 

Notwithstanding  the  successful  affairs  at  Trenton  and 
at  Princeton,  the  cause  was  considered  still  as  nearly 
hopeless.  Nothing  but  a  desperate  cause  could  have 
occasioned,  or  afforded  even  the  semblance  of  justifica 
tion,  for  the  extraordinary  measures  of  congress:  it  is 
only  a  desperate  cause  that  requires  desperate  remedies. 
Congress  conferred  on  Washington,  supreme  authority 
in  every  thing  which  related  to  the  conduct  and  man 
agement  of  the  war;  and  not  only  so,  but  to  "arrest  and 
confine  persons  who  refused  to  take  the  continental  cur 
rency,  or  were  otherwise  disaffected  to  the  American 
cause."  To  create  a  dictator,  and  to  authorize  him  to 
arrest  and  imprison  persons  who  refused  to  take  a  ficti 
tious  currency,  that  they  might  conscientiously  believe 
to  be  without  value  and  likewise  to  arrest  those  whom 
he  might  suspect  of  disaffection,  were  truly  desperate 
measures,  and  not  very  consistent  with  the  object  in 
view ;  they  afford  the  stongest  evidence  that  congress 
regarded  the  cause  as  a  forlorn  one.  Such  was  the  con 
dition  of  the  country,  "and  the  progress  that  had  been 
made  in  the  war,  in  the  spring  of  1777,  when  the  Mar 
quis  de  La  Fayette  arrived  in  America.  His  zeal  in 
the  cause  of  liberty  must  have  been  fervent  indeed,  to 
induce  him  to  forego  so  many  flattering  prospects  at 
home,  to  engage  in  a  contest  so  doubtful  and  discour 
aging,  not  to  say  desperate,  and  that  contest  not  his 
own,  or  of  his  own  country. 

At  the  opening  of  the  spring  campaign,  Washington 
had  but  between  four  and  five  thousand  men,  whilst 
Gen.  Howe  had  nearly  thirty  thousand :  a  fearful  odds  in 
a  struggle  for  the  independence  and  liberty  of  a  coun 
try.  The  American  troops  were  in  want  of  every  thing, 
and  Washington  had  no  money  to  provide  the  necessary 
supplies:  in  this  emergency  Fayette  presented  him  with 
sixty  thousand  francs.  Washington  was  greatly  affect 
ed  at  such  generosity.  Howe,  on  retiring  from  the  Jer 
seys,  took  a  station  on  Staten  Island,  and  after  various 
manoeuvres  intended  to  deceive  Washington  as  to  his 
destination,  sailed  for  the  Chesapeake  with  a  fleet  of  two. 


456  3IARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTK. 

hundred  and  fifty  ships,  and  disembarked  his  troop^ 
amounting  to  sixteen  thousand,  at  the  head  of  Elk  River ; 
from  whence  they  marched  towards  the  Brandy  wine  on 
the  route  to  Philadelphia.  Washington,  after  various 
inarches  arid  countermarches,  in  consequence  of  his 
perplexity  as  to  the  destination  of  Howe,  as  soon  as  he 
learnt  of  his  arrival  in  the  Chesapeake,  marched  his 
troops,  amounting  to  about  seven  thousand,  to  oppose 
his  progress.  Supposing  that  the  enemy  would  attempt 
to  cross  the  Brandy  wine,  at  Chad's  ford,  he  posted  the 
main  strength  of  his  army  at  that  place;  whilst  one 
thousand  men  occupied  the  opposite  hill,  on  which  a 
slight  breast-work  had  been  thrown  up  on  the. night  of 
the  10th  of  September.  On  the  morning  of  the  llth,  by 
dawn  of  light,  the  British  army  advanced  in  two  col 
umns,  the  left  under  Cornwallis,  and  the  right  under 
Knyphausen.  The  latter  perceiving  that  he  could  riot 
cross  without  dislodging  the  Americans  posted  on  the 
hill  under  General  Maxwell,  ordered  a  detachment  to 
attack  them,  which  Maxwell  repulsed;  but  the  detach 
ment  being  reinforced,  and  another  party  proceeded  to 
attack  his  flank,  the  American  'general  retreated  and 
crossed  the  river  with  little  loss,  not  being  pursued  by  the 
enemy.  The  judicious  dispositions  made  by  Washing 
ton  to  prevent  Cornwallis  from  crossing  the  ford,  were 
countermanded  in  consequence  of  erroneous  information 
that  the  enemy  was  not  marching  in  that  direction;  by 
which  means  Cornwallis's  division  crossed  without  op 
position,  and  the  Americans  were  first  informed  of  it, 
by  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  to  turn  their  right  flank 
under  General  Sullivan.  A  short  engagement  ensued, 
whrch  resulted  in  the  rout  of  the  Americans,  who  re 
treated  in  great  confusion.  General  Greene  was  des 
patched  to  the  aid  of  Sullivan,  and  although  he  marched 
four  miles  in  forty  minutes,  he  arrived  only  in  season  to 
cover  ih  ^  retreat  of  the  routed  and  flying  troops.  Ta 
king  advantage  of  the  engagement  with  Cornwaliis, 
Lnyphausen  crossed  Chad's  ford,  and  attacked  Wayne 
and  Maxwell  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  who 
were  compelled  to  retire  and  abandon  their  batteries 
and  cannon. 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE  457 

Greene  who  was  pursued  by  Cornwallis,  made  a 
stand  at  a  defile  about  one  mile  from  the  scene  of  action ; 
the  troops  under  his  command  consisted  of  Weedon's 
Virginia  brigade,  and  Colonel  Stewart's  Pennsylvania 
regiment.  This  narrow  pass  Greene  was  determined  to 
defend ;  Conwallis  came  up  about  an  hour  by  sun,  when 
a  contest  commenced  which  was  terminated  only  by  the 
darkness  of  the  night.  The  action  was  fought  with  the 
most  determined  bravery  on  both  sides:  no  troops  ever 
behaved  better,  or  displayed  more  cool  intrepidity  than 
the  Americans  under  Greene,  who  sustained  the  heat  of 
the  action.  This  action  has  become  memorable  from 
its  being  the  first  in  which  La  Fayette  was  engaged,  and 
the  first  in  which  he  shed  his  blood  in  the  cause  of  lib 
erty.  He  behaved  with  the  coolness  of  an  old  veteran; 
animated  by  his  example,  his  brigade  made  a  vigorous 
charge  OD  the  enemy,  but  was  repulsed  ;  he  exerted  him 
self  to  rally  them,  and  lead  them  again  to  the  charge, 
but  without  success.  He  was  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight, 
and  was  wounded  by  a  musket  ball  in  the  leg,  but  would 
not  retire  or  dismount  from  his  horse  to  have  his  wound 
dressed,  but  continued  at  his  post  during  the  whole  en 
gagement,  and  displayed  the  coolness,  valour  and  pres 
ence  of  mind  of  a  veteran  soldier.  Several  other  cele 
brated  foreigners  were  engaged  in  this  battle;  among 
the  number  was  the  Polish  Count,  Pulaski,  who  carried 
off  King  Stanislaus  from  his  capital:  he  so  highly  dis 
tinguished  himself,  that  he  was  promoted  by  congress  to 
be  commander  of  the  cavalry,  and  brigadier  general. 
About  this  period  his  still  more  distinguished  country 
man,  the  Polish  patriot  and  hero,  Kosciusko,  arrived  in 
this  country,  also  a  volunteer  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 
At  this  time  too,  M.de  Coudray,  a  French  officer  of  em- 
inet  rank  and  talents,  an  enthusiast  in  the  cause  of  lib 
erty,  arrived  in  America; and  who  soon  afterward  was 
unfortunately  drowned  in  attempting  to  ford  the  Schuyl- 
kill.  La  Fayette  after  the  battle,  was  conveyed  to 
Philadelphia,  but  on  the  advance  of  the  enemy,  he  was 
obliged  to  retire  to  the  mountains  for  security.  The 
Baron  de  St.  Ouary,  a  distinguished  French  officer  was 
taken  prisoner. 

K3 


458  MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

The  result  of  this  battle,  considering  the  number  and 
description  of  troops  engaged  o-n  both  sides,  the  Ameri 
cans  being  greatly  inferior  in  both  respects,  could  not 
furnish  any  just  cause  of  exultation  on  the  part  of  the 
British.  Our  loss  in  killed,  wounded  and  prisoners  ex 
ceeded  twelve  hundred;  and  theirs  amounted  to  about 
eight.  The  British  however  contrived  to  magnify  its 
importance,  and  thus  to  multiply  the  number  of  its  par 
tisans  throughout  Pennsylvania,  which  increased  the 
embarrassments  of  the  continental  army,  whilst  it  facili 
tated  the  plans  of  Howe. 

Washington  retired  to  Chester,  towards  Philadelphia, 
where  he  rallied  his  forces,  and  intended  still  to  dispute 
the  entrance  of  the  British  into  Philadelphia.  Had  the 
British  general  followed  up  his  advantages,  instead  of 
remaining  three  days,  the  situation  of  the  Americans 
would  have  been  very  critical,  and  perhaps  the  contest 
'have  been  decided;  he  might  easily  have  overtaken  our 
army  at  Chester,  before  Washington  had  had  time  to 
rally  his  troops,  or  reinforce;  or  he  might  have  pushed 
on  and  reached  Philadelphia  before  him.  But  the  evil 
genius  of  Howe  concurred  with  the  exertion  and  skill  of 
Washington,  for  the  salvation  pf  America.  The  two 
armies  again  met  on  the  17th,,near  Warren  Tavern,  on 
the  Lancaster  road,  and  were  again  about  to  contest  the 
possession  of  Philadelphia,  with  fearful  odds,  on  the 
part  of  the  British,  who  were  flushed  with  recent 
victory.  But  that  Power  who  rides  on  the  wind  and 
directs  the  storm,  had  ordered  otherwise;  a  tremen 
dous  storm,  accompanied  with  torrents  of  rain,  compel 
led  the  hostile  parties  to  separate,  a  few  minutes  after 
the  commencement  of  the  engagement.  On  the  follow 
ing  day,  Washington  moved  off  towards  Reading,  order 
ing  Wayne  to  remain  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  who,  on 
the  night  of  the  20th,  was  surprised  by  a  detachment  of 
the  enemy,  and  sustained  a  serious  loss. 

Sir  William  Howe,  having  succeeded  by  his  manoeu 
vres  and  movements  in  drawing  Washington  to  a  dis 
tance  from  the  city,  suddenly  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  and 
entered  Philadelphia  in  triumph  on  the  26thfwithout  op 
position.  The  congress  had  adjourned  on  the  18th,  to 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  459 

iLiancaster,  and  from  thence  they  soon  repaired  to  York- 
town. 

Washington  moved  with  his  army  to  Skippack  Creek, 
about  sixteen  miles  from  Gennantown;  where  being  re 
inforced  by  2,500  men,  on  the  3d  October,  he  advanced 
to  attack  the  enemy's  encampment  at  Gerrnantown. — 
Early  on  the  morning  of  the  4th,  the  Americans  com 
menced  the  attack:  it  was  unexpected  by  the  enemy, 
and  our  troops  would  probably  have  gained  a  decisive 
victory,  had  it  not  been  for  the  unfortunate  detention  of 
the  main  army,  to  attack  Chew's  stone  house,  into  which 
a  party  of  the  enemy  had  retreated  for  refuge.  While 
the  main  division  of  the  army  was  thus  detained,  about 
what  what  was  of  little  or  no  consequence  as  to  the 
principal  object, the  enemy  had  time  to  make  their  dis 
positions;  and  the  column  under  General  Greene,  came 
up  and  engaged  the  right  wing  of  the  enemy:  a  spirited 
contest  ensued,  in  which  the  Americans  for  some  time 
had  the  advantage.  The  contest  was  very  hotly  kept 
up  for  a  considerable  time;  but  at  length,  the  Americans 
were  compelled  to  give  way  in  every  direction;  and  as 
they  were  retreating,  Cornvvallis  came  up  with  a  squad 
ron  of  horse,  which  routed  and  threw  them  into  great 
confusion.  Our  loss  was  severe,  amounting  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners,  to  about  eleven  hundred ;  among 
the  killed  was  General  Nash  of  North  Carolina.  The 
enemy's  loss  in  killed  and  wounded  was  eight  hundred. 

La  Fayette,  impatient  of  confinement,  and  anxious 
again  to  be  in  the  field,  before  his  wound  was  healed, 
proceeded  to  join  General  Greene  in  New  Jersey.  Hav 
ing  obtained  the  command  of  a  small  body  of  militia, 
in  conjunction  with  Colonel  Butler,  who  had  a  rifle  corps 
of  about  the  same  number,  on  the  25th  of  November, 
whilst  attempting  to  reconnoitre  the  position  of  the  ene 
my  he  fell  in  with  a  detachment  of  about  three  hundred 
men,  consisting  of  Hessian  and  British  grenadiers.  A 
spirited  engagement  immediately  followed ;  the  enemy 
were  soon  routed  and  fled,  with  the  loss  of  twenty  or 
thirty  killed,  and  a  number  wounded,  and  were  pursued 
to  their  camp. 


460  MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

General  Greene,  in  noticing  this  encounter,  spoke  iti 
very  flattering  terms  of  La  Fayette; — "The  Marquis,1' 
he  observed,  "seemed  to  search  for  danger,  and  was 
charmed  with  the  behaviour  of  his  men."  In  his  letter 
to  Washington,  La  Fayette  remarked :  *4I  found  the  ri 
flemen  superior,  even  to  their  own  high  reputation;  and 
the  militia  surpassed  all  the  expectations  I  could  have 
formed  of  them."  An  account  of  this  victory  was 
transmitted  to  the  congress  by  Washington,  who  were 
so  sensible  of  the  merit  of  La  Fayette,  that  they  immedi 
ately  promoted  him  to  the  command  of  a  division.  This 
consisted  at  first  of  twelve  hundred  young  men,  which 
was  afterward  increased  to  two  thousand.  They  were 
disciplined  and  instructed  by  their  young  general,  who 
was  so  delighted  with,  and  so  diligent  in  attending  to  the 
duties  of  his  new  situation,  that  he  scarcely  allowed 
himself  time  for  sleep  or  refreshment. 

The  troops  under  his  immediate  charge,  formed  a 
distinct  corps,  and  were  peculiarly  his.  They  were  not 
only  formed  and  disciplined  by  him,  but  the  soldiers 
were  armed  and  equipped  at  his  own  expense;  he  also 
presented  each  officer  with  an  elegant  sword  and  belt. 
These,  and  other  acts  of  munificence  in  promoting  the 
objects  of  the  war,  had  reduced  his  funds  so  low  that 
he  was  under  the  necessity  of  sending  to  France  for  ad 
ditional  supplies.  His  assiduity  in  the  discharge  of  his 
duties,  his  attention  to  the  wants  of  every  soldier,  his 
unbounded  liberality,  and  his  engaging  manners,  render 
ed  him  beloved  and  respected  by  almost  every  man  un 
der  his  immediate  command.  Although  but  a  youth 
himself, -he  was  literally  the  father  of  the  troops  he  com 
manded:  he  was  truly  the  soldier's  friend.  He  has 
since  declared  that  he  was  never  so  truly  happy  as 
when  engaged  in  these  delightful  employments,  and  sur 
rounded  bv  bisjiriendsi  a  term  of  endearment  which  he 
applied  to  those  under  his  immediate  charge. 

Apparently  triflng  incidents  often  open  the  heart  of  a 
man,  and  unfold  his  dispositions  more  than  great  events. 
About  this  period,  a  circumstance  occurred  too  honoura 
ble  to  the  heart  of  La  Fayette,  to  be  omitted.  While 
inspecting  the  camp,  he  beheld  a  man  wretched  ia  his 


MARQUIS   DE    LA    FAYETTE.  46 1 

dress,  and  miserable  and  dejected  in  his  appearance, 
seated  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  his  face  covered  with  his 
hands,  and  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees;  he  seemed 
an  object  of  such  deep  melancholy  and  distress  as  at 
tracted  the  attention  of  the  general ;  who,  after  listening 
for  some  moments  to  his  sighs,  inquired  in  that  feeling 
and  interesting  manner  so  peculiar  to  him,  the  cause  of 
his  grief.  The  unhappy  man  replied  that  he  had  lately 
joined  the  army,  leaving  a  young  wife  and  two  small 
children  at  home,  who  were  entirely  dependent  on  him 
for  sustenance,  and  that  the  fears  of  their  suffering  during 
his  absence,  filled  his  heart  with  sorrow.  La  Fayette, 
after  hearing  his  story,  inquired  his  name  and  place  of 
residence,  and  told  him  not  to  grieve,  as  his  family  should 
be  provided  for,  which  promise  he  neither  forgot  nor 
disregarded. 

The  Americans  had  attempted  to  obstruct  the  navi 
gation  of  the  Delaware,  by  chevaux-de  frise,  fire-ships 
and  forts,  and  to  cut  off  the  communication  between  the 
fleet  and  army  of  the  enemy,  which  would  have  ren 
dered  their  situation  at  Philadelphia  very  critical. 
The  two  Howes  being  sensible  of  this,  made  exertions 
corresponding  to  the  importance  of  the  object,  to  open 
the  navigation  of  the  river.  The  most  important  of 
the  fort-s,  was  that  at  Red  Bank,  which  being  attacked 
by  fifteen  hundred  Hessians,  it  was  gallantly  defended 
by  Colonel  Greene,  who  repulsed  the  assailants  with 
immense  loss,  Colonel  Donop,  their  commander,  being 
himself  mortally  wounded  and  made  prisoner,  with 
many  other  officers.  But  for  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
which  covered  their  flight,  the  whole  party  would  have 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans.  This  distin 
guished  conduct,  was  duly  honoured  by  congress,  and 
an  elegant  sword  presented  to  Colonel  Greene. 

But  notwithstanding  the  failure  of  this  attempt,  Sir 
William  Howe  did  not  abandon  the  object  of  opening 
the  navigation  of  the  river;  but  ordered  an  attack  to 
be  made  on  Fort  Mifflin,  on  Mud  Island,  which  was  most 
gallantly  and  obstinately  defended;  but  after  having 
sustained  the  fort  for  nearly  two  months  against  the 
daily  attacks  of  the  enemy,  it  was  abandoned  on  the 


462  MARQUIS   DE    LA 

15th  of  November,  the  works  being  entirely  destroyed, 
which  left  the  garrison  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 
Colonel  Samuel  Smith  of  Maryland,  who  commanded 
the  garrison,  received  a  sword  from  Congress,  for  his 
gallant  conduct  in  the  various  assaults  on  Fort  Mifflin; 
two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  garrison  were  killed  and 
wounded.  Of  all  the  works  on  the  river,  Fort  Mercer 
alone  remained;  it  was  intrusted  to  General  Greene, 
who  did  every  thing  that  could  be  done,  to  defend  it; 
but  not  receiving  the  expected  reinforcements,  it  was 
abandoned  in  pursuance  of  the  advice  of  a  council  of 
officers.  After  the  fall  of  the  forts,  the  vessels  and 
galleys  were  obliged  to  be  abandoned.  In  these  various 
conflicts,  the  Americans  sustained  severe  losses;  the 
enemy  also  lost  two  ships  of  the  line ;  but  they  succeed 
ed  in  obtaining  the  command  of  the  river. 

Early  in  December,  the  British  general  marched 
from  Philadelphia  to  White  Marsh,  and  manoeuvred  to 
draw  Washington  into  an  engagement,  but  did  not  dare 
to  attack  him  in  his  position,  although  the  American 
troops  were  in  the  most  deplorable  condition;  in  want 
of  shoes,  stockings,  breeches  and  blankets.  After  some 
skirmishing,  the  enemy  returned  to  the  city,  where  he 
found  very  snug  winter  quarters.  His  adversary  having 
retired,  Washington  moved  with  his  army  to  Valley 
Forge,  a  place  uniting  almost  every  advantage,  where 
he  took  up  his  winter  quarters,  about  sixteen  miles  from 
Philadelphia. 

Thus  terminated  the  campaign  of  1777,  which  com 
menced  under  such  favourable  auspices  on  the  part  of 
the  British,  with  such  ample  means,  and  from  which 
the  enemies  of  America,  both  at  home  and  in  England, 
had  expected  so  much.  The  possession  of  a  city 
abandoned  by  a  considerable  part  of  its  inhabitants, 
and  the  submission  of  the  surrounding  country  for  fif 
teen  miles  in  extent,  were  the  only  results  of  a  cam 
paign,  which  after 'great  expectation  and  immense  ex 
pense,  was  to  prostrate  the  power  and  hopes  of  Ameri 
ca,  and  teach  the  rebels  better  manners,  and  convince 
them  by  the  argumcntum  baculinum — conviction  per 
force,  of  the  omnipotence  of  parliament,  and  its  author- 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTL.  463 

ity  to  bind  the  Americans  in  all  cases  whatsoever!  The 
British  had  not  been  defeated;  they  had  not  been  dis 
appointed  by  not  receiving  expected  reinforcements,  or 
by  the  failure  of  the  co-operation  of  their  fleet;  their 
exertions  had  not  been  paralysed,  and  their  plans  frus 
trated  by  any  adverse  occurrence,  that  was  out  of  the 
contingences  which  fairly  belong  to  the  operations  and 
events  of  war.  Neither  had  they  been  opposed  by  a 
numerous  force,  or  one  well  disciplined  and  supplied 
with  every  thing  calculated  to  render  it  efficient.  Why 
theai  did  they  accomplish  so  little,  and  what  were  the 
difficulties  with  which  they  had  to  contend?  The  want 
of  energy  in  the  British  commander,  may  have  been 
one  reason  of  this  failure;  but  the  principal  causes 
existed  in  the  nature  of  the  contest,  and  the  many  ob 
stacles  which  attend  the  conquest  of  a  people  contend 
ing  for  their  liberty,  and  animated  by  a  spirit  which  such 
a  cause  is  calculated  tp  inspire.  Had  the  people  been 
united,  the  British  would  have  found  much  more  formi 
dable  obstacles  to  contend  with;  but  instead  of  this, 
the  country  was  distracted  with  dissensions,  two  great 
parties  dividing  public  opinion;  the  tories  were  not  only 
opposed  to  the  revolution,  but  formed  a  local  and  active 
auxiliary  force,  to  co-operate  with  the  enemy;  this 
party  in  the  middle  states,  comprised  no  small  portion 
of  the  men  of  property;  jealousies  and  coldness  also, 
prevailed  among  the  whigs;  and  a  spirit  of  monopoly 
and  cupidity  having  sprung  up,  motives  of  gain  pre 
vailed  over  sentiments  of  patriotism,  and  men  of  wealth 
engaged  in  ruinous  speculations:  all  these  causes  ten 
ded  to  embarrass  and  paralyse  the  endeavours  of  con 
gress  and  their  commander.  Congress  had  not  the  pow 
er  to  command  the  little  resources  the  country  posses 
sed  ;  was  without  money  and  without  credit,  and  the 
army  in  want  of  every  thing.  If,  with  all  these  embar 
rassments  and  obstacles,  the  enemy  was  able  to  effect 
no  more,  what  would  he  have  accomplished  if  the  peo 
ple  had  been  united  and  under  an  efficient  government? 
The  American  army  remained  undisturbed  in  their 
quarters  at  Valley  Forge,  but  sixteen  miles  from  Phila 
delphia,  the  more  comfortable  quarters  of  the  enemy. 


464  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

although  barefoot  and  almost  literally  naked,  and  great 
ly  inferior  in  numbers  to  the  British.  In  this  destitute 
condition  of  the  American  troops,  La  Fayette,  at  his 
own  expense,  procured  many  articles  to  supply  the  most 
distressing  wants  of  the  soldiers.  He  was  too  much 
the  soldier's  friend  to  be  satisfied  to  be  himself  possess 
ing  every  enjoyment,  whilst  the  troops  were  suffering 
the  severest  privations.  To  relieve  the  distresses  of 
the  army,  and  assume  the  appearance  of  confidence 
and  cheerfulness,  Washington  and  the  officers  encoura 
ged  pastimes  and  amusements,  and  took  a  part  in  them 
themselves.  From  the  conciliatory  deportment,  the 
pleasing  manners;  from  his  regard  for  the  rights  of  the 
soldiers,  and  his  unbounded  liberality,  the  example  and 
exertions  of  no  one,  except  the  commander  in  chief, 
had  raore  influence  than  those  of  La  Fayette.  Wash 
ington,  and  the  other  officers,  invited  their  ladies  to 
their  quarters,  to  partake  in  th^r  festivities,  and  by 
their  presence,  to  enliven  the  dulness  of  the  scene;  by 
their  vivacity  and  sprightliness,  to  spread  a  charm  of 
gayety  and  pleasure  over  the  haggard  features  of  war, 
and  the  sufferings  and  gloom  of  the  camp — that  in  these 
transient  enjoyments,  past  distresses  might  be  forgotten, 
present  sufferings  alleviated,  and  future  prospects 
brightened.  These  patriotic  women,  whilst  they  felt 
a  deep  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  their  husbands  and 
friends,  engaged  in  a  contest  for  life  and  liberty  with 
such  unequal  means,  suppressed  their  uneasiness,  and 
assuming  the  apearance  of  cheerfulness  and  joy  them 
selves,  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to  impart  these 
feelings  to  others,  and  give  an  appearance,  at  least,  of 
pleasure  and  gayety  to  the  scene.  Their  patriotic  mo 
tives  and  example  were  worthy  the  highest  praise,  and 
will  compare  with  the  most  distinguished  matrons  of 
the  ancient  republics  of  Greece  or  Llome.  During  the 
winter,  Washington  caused  the  whole  army  to  be  inocu 
lated  with  the  small-pox,  wich  was  conducted  with  such 
secrecy  that  the  British  were  not  informed  of  it  until 
the  whole  operation  was  ended.  The  sufferings  of  the 
army  were  inconceivably  severe,  during  the  rigours  of 
fhe  winter;  being  not  only  destitute  of  clothing,  but 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  465 

often  of  provisions.  At  one  period  the  commissary 
delivered  the  last  ration  in  his  possession;  and,  from  the 
want  of  materials  to  raise  their  barracks  from  the 
ground,  the  damp  struck  through  their  straw  beds,  which 
produced  a  contagious  and  mortal  disease,  to  which 
the  soldiers  were  the  miserable  victims.  But  the  army 
bore  all  these  sufferings  with  fortitude  and  patience,  if  not 
without  complaint.  The  commissioners  appointed  by 
Congress  to  examine  the  condition  of  the  army,  report 
ed  that  nothing  could  exceed  their  sufferings,  except  the 
patience  with  which  they  supported  them. 

To  add  to  these  difficulties,  jealousy  and  envy  had 
produced  secret  enemies  to  the  commander  in  chief,  who, 
by  plots  and  intrigues,  attempted  to  deprive  him  of  the 
confidence  of  the  army  and  of  the  people,  and  thus,  if 
not  to  strip  him  of  his  power,  at  least  to  cast  a  shade 
over  the  lustre  of  his  well-earned  fame.  There  were 
others,  whom  charity  requires  us  to  believe,  honestly 
entertained  fears  that  Washington,  after  establishing 
the  independence  of  the  country,  like  Caesar  or  Crom 
well,  would  assume  sovereign  power  himself.  The 
jealous  spirit  of  the  times,  and  the  unlimited  authority 
conferred  on  him  by  Congress,  favored  these  unworthy 
suspicions,  which  had  they  not  been  allayed,  might  have 
proved  so  fatal  in  their  consequences.  No  one  was 
more  active  or  successful  in  his  exertions  to  allay  .them, 
and  satisfy  the  public  mind,  than  General  La  Fayette. 
Being  a  foreign  nobleman  of  a  princely  fortune,  no  one 
could  suspect  him  of  harboring  designs  hostile  to  the 
liberties  of  America,  and  from  the  sacrifices  he  had 
made,  in  her  cause,  general  confidence,  was  reposed  in 
his  integrity.  From  his  situation  with  relation  to 
Washington,  being  his  confidential  friend  and  adopted 
son,  to  whom  he  unbosomed  his  most  secret  thoughts, 
he  possessed  great  personal  influence,  which  was  exer 
ted  in  a  judicious  and  efficacious  manner.  So  disin 
terested  a  patriot,  who  had  poured  out  his  blood  and 
his  treasure  in  the  cause  of  American  liberty,  was  lis 
tened  to,  when  he  spoke  in  vindication  of  the  character 
of  Washington,  whose  inmost  thoughts  he  knew — whose 
heart  was  opened  to  him.  His  exertions  contributed 

L3 


466  MARQUIS    0E    LA    FAYfcTTK. 

greatly  to  sooth  the  feelings  and  allay  the  jealousies 
which  had  disclosed  themselves  and  threatened  to  pro' 
duce  the  most  alarming  consequences. 

Those  who  suppose  that  it  is  with  his  sword  only 
that  Fayette  served  America,  are  greatly  mistaken. 
It  is  not  only  for  his  exertions  in  the  field,  and  the  blood 
spilt  in  our  service,  that  we  are  indebted  to  this  distin 
guished  patriot;  but  still  more  for  his  wisdom,  his  coun 
sels,  his  treasure  and  unexampled  munificence,  and 
most  of  all,  for  his  extensive  personal  influence,  both  in 
France  and  America,  which  was  exerted  to  the  utmost 
to  advance  the  interests  of  that  cause  in  which  he  had 
so  heroically  and  patriotically  engaged. 

The  energy  of  mind,  the  unshaken  firmness,  and  un 
wearied  exertions  of  Washington,  enabled  him  to  sus 
tain  himself  under  all  the  difficulties  which  surrounded 
him.  deduced  as  his  army  was,  and  a  large  portion  of 
what  remained,  from  sickness  and  privations,  unfit  for 
duty,  nothing  but  the  commanding  position  he  had  cho 
sen,  and  the  vigilance  with  which  his  camp  was  guar 
ded,  could  have  secured  him  against  attack,  situated  in 
the  vicinity  of  an  opposing  army  of  nearly  twenty  thou 
sand  strong,  well  armed  and  equipped,  and  possessing 
all  the  means  ot  war. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Consequences  of  the  fortunate  termination  of  the  campaign  in  the  north — Treaty  witti 
France]— La  Fayette  appointed  to  command  an  expedition  against  Canada— it  is  given 
up— His  successful  retreat  from  Beacon  Hill,  near  Philadelphia— He  challenge*  Lord 
Carlisle — Enti  rprige  against  Rhode  Island,  and  conduct  ot  La  Faytlte—  He  return* 
to  France — is  received  with  great  joy  and  respect — exerts  his  influence  with  the  gov 
ernment  to  induce  it  toaflbru  more  ample  assistance  to  America — sails  again  for  the 
United  States. 

IP  little  glory  or  advantage  had  been  acquired  in  the 
campaign  in  the  middle  states,  that  in  the  north  had 
been  still  more  unfortunate.  Commenced  with  high 
hopes,  which  were  still  more  inflated  by  flattering  cir 
cumstances  of  success  that  attended  its  early  opera 
tions,  it  terminated  on  the  plains  of  Saratoga  most  glo 
riously  to  the  American  arms,  and  most  advantageously 
to  the  cause  in  which  she  was  engaged,  but  to  the  inex 
pressible  disappointment  and  mortification  of  Britain. 


MARqUIS   DE    LA    FAYETTE.  467 

An  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  veteran  and  experienced 
troops,  under  an  able  and  enterprising  commander,  well 
equipped  and  provided,  opposed  only  by  a  greatly  infe 
rior  force  of  regulars  anil  the  militia  of  the  country,  in 
spired  the  highest  expectation.  Such  an  army,  with 
such  a  leader,  it  was  believed  would  march  through  a 
country  destitute  of  fortresses,  and  so  feebly  defended, 
without  difficulty  and  without  danger.  It  was  expec 
ted  to  compel  the  submission  or  all  the  northern  part  of 
the  State  of  New- York,  and,  by  forming  a  junction 
with  the  forces  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  on  the  Hudson, 
establish  the  authority  of  Britain  over  the  entire  State 
of  New  York,  so  important  from  its  position,  a  id  in 
every  other  respect. 

But  this  formidable  army  and  array  of  power  and  all 
the  hopes  depending  on  them,  were  annihilated  in  a  few 
months.  The  sun  of  Burgoyne's  glory,  which  rose 
with  such  brightness,  was  soon  overcast  with  clouds, 
and  set  in  darkness  and  in  blood.  It  is  thus  the  hopes 
of  man  perish!  On  the  seventeenth  of  October, '77, 
the  remains  of  General  Burgoyne's  army,  amounting 
then  to  nearly  six  thousand  men,  was  surrendered  to 
the  Americans,  under  the  command  of  General  Gates. 

This  was  the  most   important  event  since  the  com 
mencement  of  the  war,  and  gave  the  first  serious  shock 
to  British  power  in  America.     It  was  not  the  capture 
of  six  thousand  men,  and  the  withdrawal  of  that  force 
from  the  troops  employed  by  the  enemy,  that  gave  im 
portance   to  this  victory;  this  loss  to  the  British  army 
might  easily  be  supplied;  but  it  was  the  moral  influence 
of  this  victory,   not  only  in    America,  but  in  Europe, 
which  gave  it  its  importance.     It  revived  the  hopes  of 
the  Americans,  and   inspired  fresh  confidence;  it   in 
creased  the  respect  and  authority  of  congress,  anima» 
ted  the  continental  armies,  and  gave  activity  to  the  re 
cruiting  service.     But  its  influence  abroad  was  scarcely 
less  important  than  at  home;  it  decided  the  policy  of 
France,  and  enabled  tbe  American  Commissioners  to 
conclude  a  treaty  of  amity  and  alliance  with  her,  which 
they  had  been  endeavouring  to  effect  since  1776.     This 
treaty,  which  had  so  important  a  bearing  on  the  Amer- 


468  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

ican  Revolution,  was  concluded  on  the  6th  of  February, 
1778,  by  Count  de  Vergennes,  on  the  part  of  France,  and 
Dr.  Franklin,  Arthur  Lee,  and  Silas  Deane,  on  the  part 
of  the  United  States. 

Until  the  capture  of  Burgoyne's  army,  France  had 
not  sufficient  confidence  in  the  ultimate  success  of  the 
Americans,  to  be  induced,  by  all  the  exertions  of  Frank 
lin  and  his  associates,  assisted  by  the  influence  of  La 
Fayette  and  his  friends  in  France,  to  openly  acknowl 
edge  the  independence  of  the  United  States;  but  the 
destruction  of  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  inspired 
such  reliance  on  the  firmness  and  ability  of  America,  to 
maintain  the  character  she  had  assumed,  that  France 
not  only  acknowledged  her  independence,  but  agreed 
to  become  herself  a  party  in  the  war.  Immediately 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty,  the  American  Com* 
missioners  were  presented  to  the  king,  and  Dr.  Franklin 
accredited  as  Minister  Plenipotentiary  of  the  United 
States  to  the  Court  of  France. 

The  news  of  the  treaty   with  France,  filled  America 
with  joy;  it  animated  the  heart  of  the  patriot  and  ner 
ved  the  arm  of  the  warrior.     From  the  zeal  of  La  Fay 
ette  in  the   cause  of  American    liberty,  and   from    his 
long  continued  exertions  and  anxiety,  to   induce  his  na 
tive   France,  to  afford  her  assistance,  no  one  rejoiced 
more  sincerely  at  this  heart-cheering  intelligence,  than 
this   disinterested  patriot.     Being  one  of  the  first  who 
receved   the   news,  he  could  not  forgo   the  pleasure  of 
being  the- bearer  himself  of  so  agreeable   intelligence 
to  the  commander  in  chief;  who  immediately  ordered 
the  troops  (o  be  assembled  in   brigades,  the   treaty  to 
be  read,  prayers  and  thanksgivings  to  be  publicly  offered 
up  to  that  Being  who  ''turneth  the  hearts  of  Kings  as 
the  rivers  are  turned."     This  was  followed  by  a  general 
discharge   of    cannon,   which    resounded    through   tnc 
camp,  accompanied  with  every  other  demonstration  of 
joy.     At  a  given  signal,  the    whole  army  cried  out  at 
once,  Long  live  the   King  of  France!     In   the  admira 
tion  and  gratitude  manifested  toward  France  La  Kay- 
ette  came  in  for  a  share;  crowds  gathered  around  him, 
and  vied  with  each  other  in  expressing  their  congratula- 


MARQUIS    DE   LA   FAYETTE.  469 

tions  on  the  occasion,  and  their  sense  of  the  importance 
of  his  exertions  and  influence  in  producing  this  long 
desired  connexion  between  the  two  countries. 

A  plan  had  been  formed  in  conjunction  with  La  Fay- 
ette  and  Mr.  Gerard,  the  French  minister,  for  the  con 
quest  of  Canada.  Dr.  Franklin  was  instructed  to  lay 
his  plan  before  the  court  of  France,  a  co-operation  on 
her  part  being  expected.  This  project  originated  with 
the  French  minister,  and  has  been  supposed  to  have 
had  other  objects  in  view,  than  to  aid  the  cause  of  the 
United  States.  That  the  recovery  of  her  lost  posses 
sions,  in  America,  was  an  object  that  France  looked 
upon,  as  a  possible  result  from  the  struggle  for  the  estab 
lishment  of  the  independence  of  the  United  States,  is 
neither  unreasonable  nor  improbable.  But  that  this  en 
terprise  was  proposed  to  deceive  the  United  States, 
and  divert  their  forces  to  an  object  no  way  inter 
esting  to  them,  or  that  it  was  conceived  without  regard 
to  their  interests,  is  a  position  that  is  unsupported.  But, 
however  this  may  be,  the  character  of  the  Marquis  de 
La  Fayette,  his  high  sense  of  honour,  the  zeal  which  he 
had  manifested  in  the  cause  of  America,  his  chivalrous 
spirit  and  ardent  love  of  glory,  forbid  any  suspicion  that 
he  was  acquainted  with  any  such  ultimate  designs  on 
the  part  of  France,  as  have  been  suggested,  if  any  such 
were  entertained;  he  acted  from  more  noble  and  exalt* 
ed  feelings;  the  hope  of  acquiring  military  fame,  and 
advancing  the  cause  of  independence  and  liberty. 

Early  in  the  year  '78,  the  Marquis  proceeded,  by  the 
direction  of  Washington,  to  Albany,  where  a  force  was 
collecting  for  carrying  into  execution  the  enterprise 
against  Canada.  The  plan  of  operations  was,  to  pro 
ceed  from  that  place,  with  a  suitable  force,  pass  the 
Ifikeson  the  ice  and  seize  on  Montreal  and  St.  John's. — 
Various  expedients  had  been  devised  to  overcome  the 
obstacles  of  the  enterprise ;  but  on  Fayette's  arrival  at 
Albany,  he  found  neither  men.  ammunition  or  provisions 
adequate  to  the  undertaking.  From  the  dilatory  move 
ments  in  making  the  preparations  for  the  expedition,  it 
was  so  much  delayed  that  a  thaw  supervened,  which 
with  other  obstacles  occasioned  its  abandonment.  The 


470  MARQUIS    DE   LA    FAYETTE. 

ardour  of  youth,  and  love  of  glory,  with  the  temptation 
of  an  independent  command,  so  flattering  to  a  young 
officer,  did  not  warp  the  judgment  of  La  Fayette,and 
lead  him  to  pursue  an  enterprise,  under  such  circum 
stances  as  that  it  could  scarcely  have  avoided  a  disas 
trous  termination.  With  the  foresight  of  age,  and  the 
wisdom  of  experience,  the  youthful  hero  abandoned  the 
expedition;  and  congress  was  so  satisfied  with  the  pru 
dence  and  propriety  of  this  measure,  that  they  express 
ed  their  approbation  of  his  conduct  by  a  vote  of  thanks. 

To  improve  the  occasion  to  the  best  advantage,  which 
the  news  of  the  treaty  with  France  presented,  congress 
prepared  "an  address  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  United 
States  of  America,"  which  in  addition  to  being  published 
in  all  the  Gazettes,  was  ordered  to  be  read  from  the 
pulpit  by  every  minister  of  the  gospel  in  the  country. 
This  state  paper,  contained  an  eloquent  appeal  to  the 
patriotism  of  the  people,  which  was  invoked  by  every 
principle  of  honour,  justice,  and  interest.  And  in  the 
warmth  and  liberality  of  feeling,  which  the  occasion 
had  excited,  congress  adopted  a  resolution,  granting 
half-pay  for  life,  to  all  officers  who  should  serve  during 
the  war.  This  resolution  became  a  fruitful  source  of 
uneasiness  and  difficulty  as  it  respected  the  army  and 
the  people;  the  grant  was  afterward  commuted  to  full 
pay  for  five  years. 

The  favourable  impulse,  which  had  been  given  to 
public  opinion  in  the  United  States,  by  the  capture  of 
Burgoyne,  was  greatly  increased  by  the  treaty  of  amity 
and  alliance  with  France,  and  the  expected  co-opera 
tion  of  that  power  in  the  war.  Confidence  was  restored, 
and  a  spirit  of  patriotism  revived;  activity  was  exhib 
ited  in  the  recruiting  service,  and  the  zeal  and  patriotism 
of  individuals  led  to  the  most  honourable  exertions  to 
provide  ways  and  means  for  provisioning  the  army.  A 
large  fund  vvas  raised  by  subscription  in  Philadelphia, 
to  encourage  the  recruiting  service  and  to  reward  such 
as  might  distinguish  themselves  by  their  exertions  to 
fill  up  the  ranks  of  the  army.  A  society  was  formed, 
and  a  subscription  set  on  foot,  which  produced  nearly 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds  sterling,  that  constituted 


MARQUIS   DE   LA   FAYfiTTE.  471 

fund  or  stock,  for  provisioning  the  army.  The  ladies  of 
Philadelphia,  on  this  occasion,  were  not  behind  the  men 
in  patriotism  and  zeal  in  the  cause  of  their  country. 
They  formed  contribution  societies,  and  the  example  of 
the  metropolis  being  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  state, 
more  than  150,000  dollars  were  collected  and  forwarded 
to  the  army.  To  their  great  honour,  many  contributed 
their  jesvels,  and  other  valuable  superfluities,  to  supply 
the  wants  and  add  to  the  comforts  of  the  soldiers  who 
were  fighting  for  their  protection  and  the  liberties  of  the 
country. 

In  May  '78,  Sir  William  Howe,  having  requested  per 
mission  to   return  to   England,  was   succeeded   in    the 
command  of  the  British  army,  by   Sir  Henry  Clinton; 
who,  on  the  18th  of  the  month,  gave  a  brilliant   enter 
tainment,  which  lasted  twelve  hours.   Gen.  Washington, 
whose  army  had  been  considerably  reinforced,  on  learn 
ing  this  fact,  ordered   General   La  Fayette  to   proceed 
from  the  head  quarters   of  the  army  at  Valley  Forge, 
and  attack  the   enemy,  should  an   opportunity   offer.— 
Accordingly,  with  a  detachment  of  2,500  men,  he  cross 
ed  the  SchuylkiU  and  took  a  position  on  Beacon  Hill, 
about  twelve  miles   in  advance  of  the  American  camp. 
Here  he  intended  to  pass  the  night  and  watch  the  ene 
my's  movements,  and   take  advantage  of  any  circum 
stances  which  might  favour  his  designs.     But  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  being  informed  of  this  movement,  ordered  Gen. 
Grant  with  three  thousand  troops  to  surprise  La  Fayette, 
and  cut  off  his  retreat:  and  the  Marquis  being  ignorant 
of  this  movement,  General  Grant,  by  a  circuitous  route, 
succeeded  in  taking  a  position  about  two  miles  in  the 
rear  of  La   Fayette.     At  the  same  time,  a  large  force 
marched  from  Philadelphia,  to  attack  him  in  front.     His 
situation  was  critical,  and  General  Grant  considered  his 
destruction  as  certain;  and  had  he  had  the  precaution 
to  have  secured  Matron  Fort,  a  post  on  the  SchuylkiU. 
he  would  probably  have  been  correct.     But  the  Marquis 
perceiving  the  enemy  marching  to  attack  him,  both  in 
front   and  in  rear,  aware  of  their  design,  filed  off  his 
troops  in  good  order,  and  moved  with  such  rapidity  as 
to  reach  Matron  Fort,  a  distance -of  about  one  mile,  and 


472  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

to  pass  the  river  before  the  enemy  came  up.     Although 
the  success  of  this  retreat  is  in  some  measure  attributed 
to  the  oversight  of  the   enemy;  yet  the  conduct  of  tfie 
Marquis  was  such  as  would  have    done  honour  to  the 
most  experienced  general.     It  is  one  of  the  highest  at 
tributes  of  a  skilful  general,  to  be  able  promptly  to.  take 
advantage  of  every  circumstance  which  may  favour  his 
plans,  especially  in  extricating  himself  from  unexpected 
difficulties.     The  loss  of  so  considerable  a  portion  of 
the  American  army,  at  the  time  when  the  campaign  was 
about  to  open,  would  have  been  a  very  serious  embar 
rassment  to  the  intended  operations.     The  salvation  of 
the  American  troops  therefore,  by  the  address  and  skill 
of  La   Fayette,  excited  great  joy,  and  his  own  conduct 
much  admiration  and   applause;   and  with  no  one  more 
than   Washington  who  received  the   young  hero   with 
every  mark  of  satisfaction.     Early  in  June,  the  British 
commissioners,  the  Earl  of  Carlisle,  Mr.  Eden,  and  Gov 
ernor  Johnstone  arrived  at  Philadelphia,  with  authority 
to  negotiate  a    peace  between   Britain  and    the  United 
States.     Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  also  joined  in  the  com 
mission,  and  the  celebrated  Dr.  Fergu-rson  was  its  sec 
retary.     An  attempt  was  immediately  made  to  open  a 
negotiation;  but  Washington  refused  a  passport  to  the 
secretary,  which  compelled  the  commissioners  to  have 
recourse  to  correspondence.     Their  first  letter  was  very 
complimentary  to  congress,  and  expressed  a  willingness 
to  make  every  concession,  short  of  acknowledging  the 
independence  of  the   United  States.     Congress  replied 
with  great  firmness  and  dignity  through  their  president, 
that  they  could  not  negotiate  as  the  subjects  of  his  Bri 
tannic  Majesty,  and  that,  however  desirous  they  were 
for  peace,  the  recognition   of  the   independence  of  the 
United  States,  must  be  a  preliminary  step  to  any  negoti 
ation.     The  commissioners,  in   their  answer,  said  that 
they  had  already  admitted  a  degree  of  independence* 'And. 
that  they  were  disposed  to  go  farther,  if  congress  would 
communicate  to  them  the  powers  with  which  they  were 
authorized  to  treat  with  foreign  nations.     To  this  artful 
communication,  congress  believed  they  consulted  their 
dignity  best  by  their  silence;  and  thus  the   negotiation 
ended. 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  473 

Having  failed  in  their  attempt  at  outwitting  congress 
by  their  diplomatic  arts,  the  commissioners  had  recourse 
to  the  most  shameful  attempts  at  corruption.     A  direct 
bribe  of  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,  was  offered  to  Mr. 
Reed  if  he  would  further  the  views  of  the  commissioners. 
Mr.  Reed's  reply  was  worthy  a  true  patriot  and  of  the 
times    that   tried   men's  integrity:  "Although   I  hardly 
consider  myself,  (said  he)   worth  purchasing,  yet  the 
King  of  Britain  is  not  rich  enough,  to  do  it.''     The  next 
attempt  was  made  on  Robert  Morris  and  Francis  Dana, 
with  the  same  success.     The  commissioners  soon  found 
that  'British  gold'  was   as   little  efficacious   as  British 
arms  in  reducing  America      The  commissioners  in  their 
communications  made  several  offensive  insinuations  re 
specting  the  intentions  and  policy  of  France.     This  met 
the  decided  disapprobation  of  congress,  offended    the 
people,  and  so  exasperated  La   Fayette,  that   he  con 
ceived  himself  bound  to  challenge  Lord  Carlisle,  presi 
dent  of  the  bofird   of  commissioners;  which  he  accor 
dingly  did,  leaving  to   him  the   choice  of  arms.     This 
step,  which,  under  other  circumstances  might  have  been 
regarded  as  the  bravado  of  a  rash  and  presumptuous 
young  man,  was  well  approved  of,  and  was  not  entirely 
useless.     As  commissioners,   Lord  Carlisle  could  not 
accept   the   challenge,  and    it  was  properly  declined. 
The  commissioners  having  rendered  themselves  odious, 
and  from  the  general  feeling  toward  them,  this  procedure 
of  La  Fayette,  was  gratifying  to  the  public  mind,  and 
contributed  in  some  measure,  to  lessen  the  importance 
of  the  commissioners,  in  the  eyes  of  the  common  people. 
The  spirited  manner,  in  which  the  Marquis  had  resented 
the  intimation  that  France  was  actuated  by  selfish  and 
dishonourable  views,  in  her  conduct  towards  the  United 
States,  seemed  to  confirm  the  confidence  of  the  people 
in  their  allies;  and  the  readiness  with  which  he  offered 
to  expose  his  life  in  every  way,  to  serve  the  American 
cause,  tended  to  raise   his  reputation  for  courage,  and 
increase  his  popularity  and  influence.     Apprehending  a 
fleet  and  an  auxiliary  force  from  France,  secret  orders 
had  been  sent   out  by  one  of  the  commissioners  to   Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  for   him  to  evacuate  Philadelphia,  and 

M3 


474  MARQUIS    DE   LA    FAYETlE. 

return  to  New  York  with  his  army,  with  as  little  delay 
as  possible.  He  accordingly  prepared  to  obey  the  or 
der,  and  soon  was  ready  to  move. 

"Washington,  as  soon  as  he  became  sensible  of  the 
enemy's  intention  of  abandoning  Philadelphia,  called  a 
council  of  the   officers,  to  consider  the  expediency  of 
inv  iting  a  general  engagement,  which,  as  he  could  bring 
near  eleven  thousand  men  into  the  field,  he  thought  ad 
visable.      But   his  officers   determined  otherwise,  and 
Washington  for  a  few  days  yielded  to  their  advice.     He 
however,  in  the  mean  time,  sent  Morgan,  with  600  men, 
to  reinforce  General  Maxwell's  brigade,  with  orders  to 
obstruct  the  progress  of  the  enemy  as  much  as  possible 
through  the   Jerseys;  while  he  himself  with  the  main 
army  moved  towards  Corryell's  Ferry,  that  he  might  be 
ready  to  seize  an  advantageous  opportunity  that  might 
offer  for  a  general  attack.     The    progress  of  Clinton, 
encumbered  as  he  was  with  an  enormous  quantity  of 
heavy  baggage,  was  necessarily  slow — for  in  addition  to 
the   usual  baggage,  and  provision  for  such  an  army,  he 
had  provided  against  the  possibility  of  suffering  in  case 
of  unexpected  delays  in  his  march,  by  a  store  of  provis 
ions  sufficient  to  have  lasted  him  for  a  month ;  so  that  his 
baggage  wagons,  horses,  and  carts,  resembled  the  suite 
of  an  army  of  a  hundred  thousand  men,  and  covered 
almost  as  great  an  extent  of  ground.     Upon  reaching 
Mount  Holly,  Clinton,  contrary  to   the  expectation  of 
Washington,  took  the  road  towards  Sandy-Hook,  intsead 
of  keeping  to  the  left  towards  the  Raritan,  and  thus  in 
duced   Washington  to  suppose  that  his  object  was  to 
draw  him  into  an  engagement  in  the  flat  country,  and 
then  by  a  rapid  chnnge  of  motion  to  pursue  the  route  to 
Brunswick.     But  Clinton  was  neither  anxious  to  seek 
nor  to  avoid  an  engagement;  he  had  chosen  that  route, 
most  probably  because  he  thought  it  possible  that  Gen. 
Gates  might  form   a  junction  with   Washington  at  the 
Raritan,  and  thus  cut  off  his  retreat.     Whatever  might 
have  been  his  object,  Washington  was  for  a  time  deceiv 
ed  by  it;  but  the  moment  he  discovered  that   Clinton 
meant  to  pursue  his  course  to  the  sea-coast,  he  deter 
mined  not  to  let  him  escape  without  battle. 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE  475 

With  this  view,  he  despatched  a  body  of  troops  under 
the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  with  orders  to  approach 
and  harass  the  enemy's  rear,  while  he  moved  on  with 
the  main  army  to  his  support.  Clinton,  supposing  from 
this  measure  that  Washington's  object  was  simply  to 
out  off  his  baggage,  placed  his  whole  train  of  incum- 
brances  in  the  front,  under  the  orders  and  protection  of 
General  Knyphausen,  and  remained  himself  with  the 
main  body  of  his  army,  to  check  the  attempts  of  the 
Marquis  de  La  Fayette.  This  made  > it  necessary  for 
Washington  to  send  a  larger  force  to  the  aid  of  the  Mar 
quis,  and  two  brigades  being  ordered  to  join  him,  the 
whole  force  was  placed  under  the  command  of  Major 
General  Lee.  Clinton,  with  his  whole  army,  lay  at 
Monmouth,  a  few  miles  from  the  heights  of  Middletown; 
it  was  important  therefore  that  the  attack  should  be 
made  before  he  could  reach  so  advantageous  a  position. 
At  day-light  on  the  morning  of  the  28th,  Gen.  Knyphau- 
sen  moved  on  from  Monmouth  with  the  baggage,  while 
Sir  Henry  with  the  elite  Qi  the  army,  maintained  his  po 
sition  until  eight  o'clock.  Upon  receiving  intelligence 
of  this  movement,  Washington  sent  orders  to  Lee  at 
Englishtown,  seven  miles  from  Monmouth,  to  march  on 
to  the  attack  of  the  British  rear;  unless  there  should 
appear  "very  powerful  reasons"  to  deter  him-^giving  him 
information,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  was  approaching 
to  his  support. 

Lee  lost  no  time  in  putting  his  troops  into  motion,  and 
by  the  time  he  had  advanced  within  a  few  miles  of  Mon 
mouth,  he  discovered  that  Clinton  was  also  in  motion, 
and  advancing  to  meet  him.  Gen.  Grayson,  with  the 
two  brigades  of  Scott  and  Varnum  led  the  van  of  Lee's 
division,  and  were  soon  joined  by  the  Marquis  de  La 
Fayette.  The  whole  party  seemed  to  be  at  a  J^ss  to 
understand  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  and  continued 
to  pass  and  repass  the  ravines  which  every  w/iere  inter 
sect  this  part  of  the  country.  In  this  state  of  indecision, 
Cornwallis,  who  led  the  van  of  the  enepiy,  made  a  fu 
rious  charge  with  his  dragoons  upop  the  Marquis  de 
La  Fayette,  and  drove  him  back  in  some  confusion.— 
Lee,  in  the  mean  time,  under  supposition  that  Cornwal- 


476  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

lis  was  detached  from  the  main  army,  made  a  feint  of 
retreating,  that  he  might  draw  the  general  after  him  ;  but 
on<»  of  his  officers.  General  Scott,  who  had  under  him 
the  greater  part  of  Lee  s  forces,  misunderstood  the  or 
ders,  and  actually  retreated.  This  obliged  Lee  to  fol 
low  until  he  could  overtake  him,  the  army  hanging  upon 
his  rear.  In  this  situation  he  was  met  by  Washington, 
who,  vexed  at  a  supposed  disobedience  of  his  orders, 
accosted  him  with  rather  more  vehemence  than  the  hot 
temper  of  Lee  could  brook;  he  refused  to  explain  his 
conduct,  and  a  warm  altercation  ensued. 

Washington,  now  himself  at  the  head  of  the  army, 
moved  on  to  battle,  and  a  general  action  was  soon 
brought  on  which  lasted  through  the  whole  of  one  of 
the  hottest  days  in  summer. 

Lee,  who  had  been  ordered  again  to  lead  the  van, 
met  the  whole  shock  of  the  British  advance,  which  he 
sustained  with  his  usual  gallantry  until  so  closely  pursu 
ed  by  the  British  horse,  that  his  troops  gave  way,  and 
he  was  again  compelled  to  retreat;  which  he  did  with 
the  most  perfect  order  and  coolness.  Before  the  retreat 
of  Lee,  General  Greene  moved  up  with  his  division,  and 
in  conjunction  ^ith  General  Wayne,  took  such  a  position 
that  the  British  gave  way, and  retired  behind  a  defile; 
where  before  any  disposition  could  be  made  to  attack 
them,  night  came  on  and  both  armies  drew  off  from  the 
contest. 

No  advantage  was  gained  to  either  party  by  this  hard 
fought  battle ;  nor  was  the  loss  very  great  on  either  side. 
The  British  left  on  the  n>ld  two  hundred  and  forty  nine, 
who  were  afterward  buried  by  our  men,  besides  those 
that  were  buried  by  their  own  men  during  the  night — and 
forty  four  wounded.  Among  their  killed  was  Lieuten 
ant  C&lonel  Monckton,  an  officer  of  considerable  dis 
tinction. 

The  Americans  lost  69  killed,  and  160  wounded. — 
Among  the  lulled,  were  Lieut.  Col.  Bonner,  and  Major 
Dickman.  M^,y  of  the  soldiers  of  both  armies  fell 
dead  upon  the  fifcld,  from  excess  of  fatigue  and  heat. 

Washington  lay  ^on  his  arms  all  night,  expecting  to 
renew  the  attack  in  thtmOrning;  but  Sir  Henry  €jlnton 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  477 

disappointed  him  by  moving  off  at  midnight  with  his 
whole  army;  and  as  Washington  thought  he  might  very 
justly  claim  the  victory,  was  not  in  a  situation  to  pursue 
him  over  the  deep  sands  of  Jersey,  he  continued  his  route 
without  further  molestation  to  New-Y  ork.  Washington, 
after  refreshing  his  wearied  troops,  and  providing  as  fat 
as  possible  for  the  comfort  of  the  wounded,  moved  on  at 
his  leisure  towards  the  Hudson."* 

Lord  Howe  had  scarcely  left  the  Delaware,  with  the 
British  fleet,  before  Count  D'Estaing,  with  a  much  supe 
rior  force,  appeared  on  the  coast  of  Virginia,  anJI  in  a 
few  days  came  into  the  mouth  of  the  Delaware.  His 
object  was  to  have  surprised  the  British  fleet  at  Phila 
delphia;  and  had  not  his  voyage  been  prolonged  by  bad 
weather,  he  could  hardly  have  failed  of  doing  it:  had 
he  arrived  ten  days  earlier,  the  enemy's  fleet,  and  prob 
ably  their  army,  must  have  fallen.  The  Count  D'Es 
taing,  haying  set  on  shore,  M.  Gerard,  the  French  min 
ister,  sailed  for  New-York,  and  on  the  1 1th  day  of  July 
commenced  the  blockade  of  the  British  fleet  in  that 
harbour.  He  made  several  attempts  to  enter  the  har 
bour,  but  could  not  get  his  large  ships  over  the  bar;  a 
great  number  of  English  vessels,  loaded  with  provisions 
and  other  stores  for  the  army,  which  daily  arrived,  fell 
into  his  hands.  On  the  22d  he  sailed  for  Newport,  to 
co-operate  with  the  American  troops  for  the  reduction 
of  the  British  force  on  Rhode-Island.  The  enemy  had 
6,000  men  on  Rhode-Island,  under  Gen.  Pigot,  which 
had  remained  there  since  December  '76.  Washington 
had  formed'aplan  of  fitting  out  an  expedition  to  Rhode- 
Island,  to  destroy  the  enemy's  forces  there,  which  WHS 
intrusted  to  General  Sullivan:  La  Fayette  with  2,000 
men  was  ordered  on  this  expedition,  to  reinforce  Gener 
al  Sullivan.  On  the  8th  of  August,  the  French  fleet 
entered  the  harbour  of  Newport,  the  British  having  pre 
viously,  and  to  prevent  their  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  French,  burned  and  sunk  six  vessels  that  lay  in  the 
harbour.  On  the  following  day,  Lord  Howe  made  his 
appearance  not  far  from  Point  Judith,  with  his  squad- 

•"Allen's  Revolution. 


478  MARQUIS   DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

ron,  considerably  increased.  Count  D'Estaing  being 
informed  of  this,  immediately  sailed  in  pursuit,  vvitb  a 
view  to  bring  him  to  action:  but  the  tempestuous  state 
of  the  weather  frustrated  the  efforts  of  both  fleets,  and 
after  three  days,  during  which  the  storm  lasted,  each 
party  seemed  satisfied  to  leave  the  great  question  of 
superiority  undecided.  The  moment  tbat  Count  D'Es- 
taing  left  the  harbour, General  Sullivan  embarked  with 
his  troops,  at  Tiverton,  for  Rhode-Island,  but  from  the 
unfavourableness  of  the  weather,  it  was  eight  days  be 
fore  he  could  bring  himself  before  the  enemy.  He  was 
sensible  that  all  his  hopes  of  success,  depended  on  the 
co-operation  of  Count  D'Estaing,  and  as  he  manifest  d 
no  intention  of  returning  into  the  harbour,  General  Sul 
livan  deputed  General  Greene  and  the  Marquis  -de  La 
Fayette,  to  visit  the  count,  and  request  his  immediate 
return  into  the  harbour.  He  seemed  willing  himself  to 
do  this,  but  hi»  officers  unanimously  opposed  jt  and  urged 
his  proceeding  immediately  to  Boston  to  refit,  agreeably 
to  his  instructions;  and  not  having  firmness  enough  to 
resist  their  united  opinion,  he  accordingly  sailed  for 
Boston.  Gen.  Greene  and  La  Fayette  returned,  much 
dissatisfied  with  the  result  of  their  mission.  The  con 
duct  of  the  French  officers,  excited  loud  and  general 
disapprobation  with  the  Americans;  and  a  formal  pro 
test,  signed  by  all  the  American  officers,  except  La 
Fayette,  was  drawn  up,  against  the  conduct  of  the 
French  admiral,  in  abandoning  the  expedition,  at  a  time, 
when,  with  his  co-operation,  they  had  every  reason  to 
expect  success;  which  was  represented  as 'derogatory 
to  the  honour  of  France.  This  produced  no  other  effect 
than  a  spirited  reply  from  the  Count. 

It  was  no  sooner  known  that  Count  D'Esta'mg  had 
sailed  to  Boston,  than  the  militia  and  volunteers  began 
to  move  off,  and  in  a  few  days  General  Sullivan  found 
his  force  so  reduced,  that  it  became  necessary  to  aban 
don  his  original  design,  and  prepare  for  evacuating  the 
island.  On  the  28th  a  council  of  war  was  held,  at 
which  it  was  determined  to  retire  to  the  northern  ex 
tremity  of  the  island,  and  to  remain  there  long  enough 
lo  make  a  further  effort  to  induce  the  French  admiral  to 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  479 

return  with  his  squadron.  In  effecting  this  movement, 
a  severe  action  was  hrought  on,  between  a  part  of  the 
American  army  under  Gen.  Greene,  consisting  of  about 
1200  men,  and  four  British  regiments  and  a  party  of 
Hessians.  The  engagement  lasted  all  the  afternoon  of 
the  29th,  and  terminated  without  any  great  advantage 
to  either  party.  Gen.  Sullivan,  closely  pursued  by  two 
large  detachments  of  the  enemy's  troops,  conducted 
the  retreat  with  great  ability  and  success.  The  rear 
guard,  that  covered  the  retreat,  receiving  a  reinforce 
ment,  turned  the  attack  on  the  enemy,  and  repulsed 
them  with  a  loss  of  between  two  and  three  hundred 
men. 

In   the  meantime  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  had 
been   despatched  to   Boston,  to  make  another  effort  to 
induce   the   French  admiral   to   return  with  the    fleet. 
Such  was  his  ardour  and  expedition,  that  he  arrived  in 
Boston,  a   distance  of  seventy  miles,  in   seven  hours. 
He  had  a  long  interview  with  the  admiral  and  his  offi 
cers,  in  which  he  left  no  means  untried  to  induce  him 
to  return  with  his  fleet,  but  without  effect.     The  officers 
of  the  squadron  refused  to  depart  from  their  first  deter 
mination,  and  the  Marquis  was   again  mortified   by  the 
failure  of  a  second  attempt  to  persuade  his  countrymen 
to  afford  that  assistance  to  the  Americans,  which  the 
latter  considered   they  had   a  right   to  expect.     The 
Count,  however,  was  so  far  influenced  by  his  represen 
tations,  that  he  offered  him  what   land  forces  he  could 
spare,  to  co-operate  with  the  American  troops  on  Rhode 
Island. 

La  Fayette  returned  from  Boston  in  about  six  hours 
and  a  half,  and  arrived  near  midnight  on  the  30th  of 
August,  at  the  very  time  the  American  army  was  re 
treating.  He  was  disappointed  and  mortified  on  learn 
ing  that  an  action  had  taken  place  the  day  before,  as 
he  expected  to  have  got  back  in  season  to  take  a  part 
in  it.  He,  however,  had  an  opportunity  to  assist  in 
conducting  the  retreat,  and  was  assigned  to  command 
the  troops  that  were  to  cover  the  retreating  army.  This 
difficult  service,  he  performed  with  such  coolness,  intre 
pidity,  and  address,  that  he  did  not  sustain  the  lo$s  of 


480  MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

a  single  man.  The  details  of  this  skilful  and  mas 
terly  retreat,  were  recorded  at  length  in  the  public  re 
gisters. 

The  zeal  the  Marquis  had  shown  for  the  interests  of 
the  United  States,  the  sacrifice  of  feeling  he  made  by 
repairing  to  Boston,  at  the  time  when  an  action  was  mo 
mentarily  expected,  and  the  courage  and  ability  with 
which  he  conducted  the  retreat  after  his  return,  gave 
great  satisfaction  to  congress,  who  testified  the  same  by 
the  following  resolution: 

^Resolved,  that  the  President  be  requested  to  inform 
the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  that  Congress  have  a  prop 
er  sense  of  the  sacrifice  he  made  of  his  personal  feelings, 
in  repairing  to  Boston  to  promote  the  interest  of  the 
States,  at  a  time,  when  he  momentarily  expected  an  op 
portunity  of  distinguishing  himself  in  the  field;  and  that 
the  bravery  which  he  displayed  on  his  return  to  Rhode 
Island,  when  the  greater  part  of  the  army  had  already 
effected  its  retreat,  together  with  the  ability  with  which 
he  withdrew  the  piquets  and  advanced  posts,  merits  the 
unqualified  approbation  of  this  Assembly." 

This  resolution  was  accompanied  by  the  following 
letter  from  Mr.  Henry  Laurens,  President  of  the  Con 
gress,  to  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  Major  General  in 
the  United  States  army: 

Philadelphia,  13th  Oct.  1778. 

"SiR — I  feel  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  fulfilling  the  instructions  implied  by 
a  resolution  of  Congress,  passed  on  the  9ih  inst.  and  herewith  enclosed, 
expressing  the  sentiments  of  the  Representatives  of  the  United  States, 
with  regard  to  your  conduct  during  the  recent  expedition,  undertaken 
against  Rhode  Island. 

"You  will  but  render,  sir,  an  act  of  justice  to  Congress,  by  regarding 
this  testimonial  as  a  tribute  of  respect  and  gratitude,  offered  by  a  free 
people  to  one  who  has  rendered  them  essential  services.  I  have  the 
honour,"  &c. 

The  following  is  the  Marquis's  reply: 

Head-Quarters,  23d  Oct    1778 

"SiR-J  have  this  instant  received  the  letter  which  you  did  me  the  fa 
vour  to  write,  under  date  of  the  13th  inst.  in  'which  you   inform  me  of 
the  honour  which  Congress  has  deemed  fit  to  confer  on  me,  by  its  very 
flattering  resolution.     Proud  as  I  am  of  such  distinguishing  approbation, 
F  am  rmt  the  less  grateful  to  find  that  my  efforts  have  been,  in  a  measure, 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  483 

regarded  as  useful  lo  a  cause,  in  which  I  have  taken  so  deep  and  so  lively 
an  interest.  Be  pleased,  sir,  to  present  to  Congress  my  unfeigned  and 
heartfelt  thanks,  accompanied  with  the  assurances  of  my  sincere  attach 
ment,  the  only  homage  which  is  worthy  of  heing  offered  to  the  represents 
tives  of  a  free  people. 

"From  the  moment  I  first  heard  the  name  of  America,  I  began  to  love 
her;  from  the  moment  I  understood  that  she  was  struggling  for  her  liber 
ties,  I  burned  to  shed  my  best  blood  in  her  glorious  cause;  and  the  days 
I  shall  devote  to  the  service  of  America,  wherever  and  whenever  it  may 
be,  will  constitute  the  happiest  of  rny  life.  Yet  I  never  so  ardently  de 
sired,  as  I  do  now,  to  deserve  the  generous  sentiments  with  which  these 
States  and  their  representatives  have  honoured  me:  and  the  flattering  con 
fidence  which  they  have  so  freely  reposed  in  me,  has  filled  my  breast 
with  the  most  lively  gratitude,  and  the  most  lasting  affection." 

With  the  expedition  on  Rhode  Island,  ended  the 
campaign  of  '78,  being  the  first  after  the  alliance  with 
France,  in  which  nothing  was  gained  to  either  party. 
Several  unfortunate  contingences,  and  the  skill  and 
gallantry  of  Lord  Howe,  although  possessing  only  an 
inferior  force,  prevented  the  Count  D'Estaing  from  ren 
dering  us  any  important  service.  But  the  arrival  of  the 
French  fleet  was  by  no  means  without  its  advantage; 
it  not  only  afforded  unequivocal  assurance  of  the  friend* 
ship  of  France,  but  also  that  she  felt  so  far  interested  in 
the  contest,  as  to  be  willing  to  become,  in  some  measure, 
a  party  to  the  war,  or  at  least  to  assume  a  portion  of 
the  burdens  of  it,  by  assisting  in  carrying  it  on.  This 
consideration  seemed  to  animate  our  armies  and  the 
people,  and  to  keep  up  a  spirit  of  activity  in  our  resis 
tance. 

About  this  time  La  Fayettc  received  letters  from  his 
friends  in  France,  which  acquainted  him  with  the  sensa 
tion  that  had  been  produced  in  England,  by  the  alliance 
between  France  and  America,  and  the  assistance  affor 
ded  the  Americans,  both  by  public  forces  and  individ 
uals,  the  subjects  of  France;  and  assuring  him,  it  was 
the  general  expectation,  that  war  would  soon  be  declar 
ed  by  Great  Britain  against  his  native  country.  The 
ardour  with  which  the  Marquis  was  then  engaged  in 
the  service  of  America,  and  the  field  of  glory  that  lay 
open  to  him,  did  not  lead  him  to  forget  that  he  was  a 
Frenchman;  and  his  obligations  to  his  native  country, 
when  she  required  his  services,  he  considered  as  greater 

N3 


484  MARQUIS    I>E  LA    FAYETTE. 

than  those  he  owed  to  America,  which  he  regarded  as 
his  adopted  country.  Under  these  circumstances,  he 
did  not  hesitate  a  moment,  but  resolved  to  return  to 
France.  He  felt  more  strongly  the  obligation  to  pursue 
this  course,  from  the  consideration  that  his  conduct  arid 
example  in  serving  America  had  contributed  in  some 
degree,  to  involve  his  own  country  in  war.  But  he  cal 
culated  that  his  return  to  France,  would  not  deprive 
him  of  the  power  of  serving  America,  for  he  had  reason 
to  believe  he  should  be  able  to  render  her  important 
assistance  at  home. 

Before  he  left  the  head  quarters  of  the  army,  he  com 
municated  to  Washington  his  opinion  respecting  the 
assistance  to  be  afforded  by  France,  which  was,  that 
in  order  to  be  of  any  essential  benefit  to  America,  she 
must  send  an  adequate  naval  and  land  force,  and  put  it 
under  the  immediate  control  of  the  Arrterican  comman 
der  in  chief.  Unless  the  French  forces  were  under  the 
Command  of  the  American  general,  the  same  difficulties 
which  were  experienced  in  the  case  of  Count  D'Es- 
taing,  might  be  expected  to  occur,  and  would  render  the 
co-operation  of  France  of  little  service.  A  French  na 
val  or  military  officer  might  allege,  as  had  once  been 
done,  the  secret  orders  of  his  sovereign,  whenever  he 
wished  to  avoid  a  dangerous  or  disagreeable  employ 
ment. 

The  modesty  of  Washington  would  not  permit  him 
to  concur  decidedly  in  the  Marquis's  opinions,  although 
it  was  apparent  that  he  approved  of  them.  According 
ly  he  wrote  to  his  friends  in  France,  who  possessed  any 
influence  at  court,  that  if  the  French  government  really 
wished  to  aid  the  American  cause,  it  must  send  out  a 
larger  auxiliary  force,  and  submit  it  to  the  immediate 
command  of  the  American  commander  in  chief,  whom 
he  took  care  to  give  such  a  character  as  to  inspire  the 
highest  confidence. 

In  October,  La  Fayette  left  the  head-quarters  of  the 
army,  took  leave  of  his  beloved  Washington,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  Philadelphia,  where  congress  were  in  session, 
to  request  permission  to  return  to  France.  He  presen 
ted  to  congress  a  letter  from  Washington,  and  another 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  48$ 

written  by  himself,  which  disclosed  his  views  and  objects 
in  the  request  he  made;  and  the  subjoined  resolution, 
adopted  thereon,  shows  the  high  opinion  congress  had 
of  his  merits  at  that  time: — 

«I»  Congress,  Oct.  21,  1778. 

Resolved,  That  the  Marquis  La  Fayette,  Major  General  in  the  services 
of  the  United  States,  have  lea  ye  to  go  to  France;  and  that  he  return  at 
such  time  as  shalj  be  most  convenient  to  him. 

Resolved,  That  the  President  write  a  letter  to  the  Marquis  La  Fayette, 
returning  him  the  thanks  of  Congress,  for  that  disinterested  zeal  which 
led  him  to  America^  and  for  the  services  he  hath  rendered  the  United 
States,  by  the  exertion  of  his  courage  and  abilities  on  many  signal  oc 
casions. 

Resolved,  That  the  Minister  Plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  at  the  Court  of  Versailles,  be  directed  to  cause  an  elegant  sword, 
with  proper  devices,  to  be  made  .and  presented  in  the  name  of  the  United 
States,  to  the  Marquis  La  Fayette." 

The  foregoing  resolves  were  communicated  to  the 
Marquis  in  the  following  letter. — 

"Philadelphia,  Oct.  2 4,  1778. 

SIR — I  had  the  honour  of  presenting  to  congress  your  letter,  soliciting 
leave  of  absence.  lam  directed  by  them  to  express  their  thanks  for 
your  zeal  in  promoting  that  just  cause  in  which  they  are  engaged,  and  for 
the  disinterested  services  you  have  rendered  to  the  United  States  of 
America. 

In  testimony  of  the  high  esteem  and  affection  in  which  you  are  held 
by  the  good  people  of  these  States,  as  well  as  an  acknowledgment  of 
your  gallantry  and  military  talents,  displayed  on  many  signal  occasions, 
their  representatives,  in  congress  assembled,  have  ordered  an  elegant 
sword  to  be  presented  to  you,  by  the  American  Minister  at  the  Court  of 
Versailles.  Enclosed  within  the  present  cover,  will  be  found  an  act  of 
congress  of  the  21st  inst.,  authorizing  these  declarations,  and  granting  a 
furlough  for  your  return  to  France,  to  be  extended  at  your  own  pleasure. 
I  pray  God  to  bless  and  protect  you;  to  conduct  you  in  safety  to  the 
presence  of  your  Prince,  and  to  the  re-enjoyment  of  your  noble  family 
and  friends. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  &-c. 

H.  LAUBENS." 

To  this  note  the  Marquis  made  the  following  reply: — 

Philadelphia,  Oct.  26,  1778. 

SIR — I  have  received  your  Excellency's  obliging  letter,  enclosing  the 
several  resolutions  congress  have  honoured  me  with,  and  the  leave  of  ab 
sence  they  have  been  pleased  to  grant.  Nothing  can  make  me  happier, 
than  the  reflection  that  my  services  have  met  with  their  approbation.  The 


186  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

glorious  testimonial  of  confidence  and  satisfaction  respectfully  bestowed 
on  me  by  the  representatives  of  America,  though  much  superior  to  my 
merit,  cannot  exceed  the  grateful  sentiments  they  have  excited.  I  con 
sider  the  noble  present  offered  me  in  the  name  of  the  United  States,  as 
the  most  flattering  honour.  It  is  my  most  fervent  desire,  soon  to  employ 
that  sxvord  in  their  service,  against  the  common  enemy  of  my  country 
and  their  faithful  and  beloved  allies.  That  liberty,  safety,  wealth,  and 
concord  may  ever  extend  and  bless  these  United  States,  is  the  earnest 
wish  of  a  heart  glowing  with  a  devoted  zeal  and  unbounded  love  for  them, 
and  the  highest  regard,  and  most  sincere  aifection  for  their  represen 
tatives. 

Be  pleased,  Sir,  to  present  my  thanks  to  them,  and  to  accept  yourself 
the  assurance  of  my  respectful  attachment. 

LA  FAYETTE." 

In  January,  1779,  he  embarked  at  Boston,  carrying 
with  him  an  undiminished  attachment  to  the  cause  he 
had  espoused  and  the  gratitude  of  the  American  people. 
The  regrets  which  his  departure  occasioned,  were  alle- 
viiited  by  the  expectation  that  he  would  still  continue  to 
exert  himself  in  the  cause  of  America,  and  that  his  in 
fluence  at  home  might  be  as  useful  as  his  services  in  the 
field. 

His  character  and  situation,  at  this  time,  were  with 
out  any  example  in  history.  He  possessed  the  admira 
tion  of  France  and  America,  and  of  the  friends  of  liberty 
through  the  world;  he  connected,  in  some  measure,  the 
interests  of  two  hemispheres,  and  exerted  an  important 
influence  on  the  destinies  of  the  human  race.  His  de 
votion  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  his  heroic  achieve 
ments  in  the  field,  in  its  support,  were  known  throughout 
the  civilized  world;  and  all  this  when  he  was  but  22 
years  of  age.  What  monarch  might  not  have  envied  this 
young  hero  and  patriot  ?  His  fame  had  gone  before  him, 
and  on  his  arrival  at  Havre,  he  was  welcomed  by  his 
countrymen,  with  all  that  enthusiasm  which  is  peculiar 
to  their  character.  His  disinterested  patriotism,  attend 
ed  with  the  sacrifice  of  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
fortune;  his  chivalrous  heroism,  which  shed  his  blood 
in  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  distinguished  honour  which 
had  been  shown  him  in  America,  excited  their  highest 
admiration.  His  popularity,  if  not  equally  great  with 
all  parties,  extended  to  all;  notwithstanding,  an  order 
was  issued  by  the  king,  directing  him  to  visit  no  one  at 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  487 

court  but  his  relations,  as  a  pretence  of  censure  for  his 
having  left  France  without  permission. 

Among  his  admirers,  was  the  young  queen,  Marie 
Antoinette,  then  justly  celebrated  for  her  beauty,  vivaci 
ty,  and  wit,  and  afterward  not  less  distinguished  for  her 
misfortunes.  She  possessed  a  mind  richly  endowed  and 
highly  cultivated,  open  and  generous.  The  munificence, 
devotion,  and  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  young  Marquis, 
made  a  strong  impression  on  her  heart,  and  she  became 
his  greatest  admirer  and  protectress.  She  honoured 
him  with  many  private  audiences,  and  was  extremely 
inquisitive  about  every  thing  relating  to  America,  and 
particularly  as  to  the  character  of  Washington.  This 
was  a  theme  fruitful  in  itself,  which  excited  all  the  en 
thusiasm  of  La  Fayette,  and  the  partiality  of  the  friend 
and  the  fidelity  of  the  soldier  were  manifested  with  ar 
dour  of  feeling,  earnestness  of  manner,  and  eloquence  of 
language,  which  could  not  fail  of  making  a.  deep  and 
lasting  impression  on  a  generous  and  susceptible  mind. 
The  queen,  when  she  afterward  saw  Dr.  Franklin,  with 
great  affability  observed,  "Doctor,  do  you  know  that  La 
Fayette  has  made  me  in  love  with  your  General  Wash 
ington?  What  a  man  he  must  be^and  what  a  friend  he 
possesses  in  the  marquis?" 

He  arrived  at  Versailles  on  the  12th  of  February,  and 
the  next  morning  had  an  interview  with  one  of  the  min 
isters,  but  did  not  see  the  king. 

The  cause  of  America,  at  this  time,  when  a  war  was 
almost  daily  expected  with  England,  being  universally 
popular  in  France,  La  Fayette  was  not  more  the  object 
of  the  enthusiastic  admiration  of  the  people,  than  of  the 
respectful  attention  of  the  king  and  the  ministry.  Co^it 
de  Vergennes,  a  man  of  great  talents  and  experience,, 
then  at  the  head  of  affairs,  had  frequent  and  Jong  con~ 
ferences  with  the  marquis,  in  which  the  latter  endfeav- 
oured  to  convince  the  minister  of  the  policy,  even  as  it 
respected  the  interests  of  France,  of  sending  a  larger 
force,  and  more  ample  supplies,  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Americans ;  and:particularly  of  the  necessity  of  submit 
ting  the  direction  of  these  forces  to  the  government  of 
the  United  States.  This  last  point  was  one  of 


488  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

greatest  delicacy  and  difficulty,  but  being  seconded  in 
his  endevours  by  the  late  minister  to  the  United  States, 
and  his  numerous  friends,  he  at  length  succeeded  in  con 
vincing  the  ministers  of  the  expediency  and  propriety 
of  the  measures  recommended  by  him.  Accordingly 
orders  were  soon  issued  for  the  equipment  of  a  large 
fleet,  which  was  to  take  on  board  a  numerous  body  of 
troops. 

These  measures  of  the  government  being  known,  the 
spirit'of  the  day,  the  influence  of  the  example  of  La 
Fayette,  and  the  fame  he  had  acquired  in  America,  pro 
duced  an  effect  not  more  novel  than  honourable  to  the 
character  of  France.  The  American  war  became  the 
popular  subject  of  the  day,and  a  perfect  mania  prevailed, 
which  affected  all  classes;  but  the  young  nobility  were 
the  most  ardent  to  go  to  America,  and,  like  La  Fayette 
to  distinguish  themselves  in  the  cause  of  liberty  in  the 
new  world,  struggling  to  defend  itself  against  the  mighty 
efforts  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  nations  on  the  globe. 
The  American  war  was  the  favourite  object  of  ambition, 
and  the  desire  to  engage  in  it,  and  serve  under  General 
Washington,  was  so  ardent  and  extensive,  as  to  occasion 
the  same  exertion  and  intrigue  as  usually  constitute  the 
means  of  obtaining  the  most  desirable  situations  in  the 
gift  of  the  government.  Thousands  of  applications 
were,  from  necessity,  rejected.  The  influence  and  as 
sistance  of  La  Fayette  was  sought  on  all  hands;  he  was 
surrounded  with  applicants,  and  beset  with  solicitations 
and  entreaties; — some  wished  for  one  birth  and  some  an 
other;  some  as  aids-de-camp,  others  as  secretaries,  &c. 

Doctor  Franklin,  the  American  minister,  was  ex 
tremely  perplexed  from  the  numerous  applications  mad* 
to  him,  and  in  no  small  degree  embarrassed  how  to  act 
in  a  concern  of  so  much  delicacy. 

After  a  short  tour  to  Auvergne,  for  the  purpose  of  vis 
iting  his  family  and  friends,  and  arranging  his  private 
affairs,  he  returned  to  Versailles,  then  the  regular  resi 
dence  of  the  king  and  royal  family,  to  ask  permission  of 
his  sovereign  to  revisit  America.  Louis,  on  giving  his 
consent,  informed  him  that  he  could  not  better  serve  his 
king,  than  by  serving  in  the  American  war.  He  soon 


MARQUIS    »E   LA    PAYETTE.  489 

embarked  at  Havre  in  a  gover»ment  frigate,  fitted  out 
for  the  purpose,  to  give  him  a  more  safe  and  honourable 
passage.  A  great  number  of  officers  went  out  with  him, 
candidates  for  honourable  fame,  and  he  carried  a  lage 
quantity  of  arms,  ammunition  and  supplies  of  every 
kind. 

The  resolution  of  congress  before  recited,  being 
communicated  to  Franklin,  he  took  the  necessary  meas 
ures  for  carrying  into  effect  the  wishes  of  congress, 
before  Fayette  left  France.  On  presenting  tire  sword, 
Franklin  addressed  to  Fayette  the  following  letter,  writ 
ten  in  his  usually  clear  and  forcible  style: — 

Passy,  24^/i  August,  1779. 

"SiR — The  congress,  sensible  of  your  merit  towards  the  United  States, 
but  unable  adequately  to  reward  it,  determined  to  present  you  with  a 
sword,  as  a  small  mark  of  their  grateful  acknowledgment.  They  directed 
it  to  be  ornamented  with  suitable  devices.  Some  of  the  principal  actions 
of  the  war,  in  which  you  distinguished  yourself  by  your  bravery  and  con 
duct,  are,  therefore,  represented  upon  it.  These,  with  a  few  emblematic 
figures,  all  admirably  well  executed,  make  its  principal  value.  By  the 
help  of  the  exquisite  artists  France  affords,  I  find  it  easy  to  express  every 
thing  but  the  sense  we  have  of  your  worth,  and  our  obligations  to  you. — 
For  this,  figures,  and  even  words,  are  found  insufficient. 

"I  therefore  only  add,  that,  with  the  most  perfect  esteem  and  respect,  I 
have  the  honour  to  be  your  obedient  servant, 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN." 

"  P.  S.  My  grandson  goes  to  Havre  with  the  sword,  and  will  have  the 
honour  of  presenting  it  to  you." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

He  arrives  at  Boston— his  reception— He  repairs  to  the  head  quarters  of  the  army,  and 
to  congress  with  the  official  intelligence  of  the  expected  succours  from  France — The 
French  fleet  and  troops  arrive — their  landing  superintended  by  La  Fayette — His  let 
ter  to  Samuel  Adams — He  commands  an  expedition  to  the  south  to  oppose  Arnold — 
He  saves  Richmond — He  forms  a  junction  with  Wayne — Saves  the  Military  stores  at 
Albermarl*— Cornwallis  retreats  and  is  followed  by  La  Fayette^Engagement  near 
"Williamsburgeh. 

LA  FAYETTE  arrived  at  Boston  on  the  26th  of  April, 
1779,  and  landed  amidst  the  crowd  which  lined  the  har 
bour,  and  was  conducted  with  great  parade,  the  roar  of 
cannon,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the  display  of  fireworks, 
to  the  suite  of  rooms  which  had  been  prepared  for  him. 
by  the  local  authorities.  The  return  of  this  disinter 
ested  patriot,  and  early  and  faithful  friend  of  America, 


490  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE, 

occasioned  the  warmest  enthusiasm,  and  unbounded  joy. 
In  this  cradle  of  the  revolution,  he  was  hailed  as  the 
patriot,  hero,  and  friend  and  benefactor  of  America. — 
There  was  no  place  in  the  union,  where  the  inhabitants 
were  more  heartily  engaged  in  the  war  than  Boston,  or 
had  suffered  more  from  the  arrogance  of  power,  and  the 
ravages  of  lawless  warfare;  and  their  exasperated 
feelings  towards  their  oppressors,  made  them  more  en 
thusiastic  in  their  devotion  to  the  young  hero  and  patri 
ot,  who  had  acted  so  distinguished  a  part  in  the  main 
tenance  of  the  independence  and  liberty  of  the  country. 
Illuminations,  fire-works,  and  public  entertainments, 
were  among  the  visible  testimonials  of  gratitude  and 
joy ;  they  were  not  like  the  empty  pageants  of  royal  fes 
tivals  or  coronations,  but  were  the  spontaneous  effusions 
of  free  and  honest  hearts  offered  as  greatful  homage,  to 
one  who  had  rendered  such  important  services  to  their 
country.  The  honours  shown  to  La  Fayette,  were  not 
confined  to  the  Bostonians;  the  citizens  of  all  the  neigh 
bouring  towns,  and  surrounding  country,  collected  on 
the  joyous  occasion,  to  participate  in  the  demonstra 
tions  of  gratitude  and  respect. 

At  this  period,  it  could  scarcely  have  been  believed, 
that  the  man  who  was  thus  honoured  as  the  nation's 
friend  and  benefactor,  after  the  lapse  of  forty-four 
years,  would  by  the  same  community,  be  welcomed  as 
the  "'Nation's  Guest,"  with  the  exhibition  of  grateful 
and  joyous  feelings,  if  possible,  more  heart-felt  and 
profound. 

On  the  llth  of  May,  he  communicated  confidentially 
to  Washington,  the  agreeable  intelligence  of  the  expec 
ted  succours  from  France. 

But  these  scenes  of  rejoicing  aod  respect  did  not  long 
detain  the  American  general;  ardent  to  be  actually  en 
gaged  in  the  service  of  his  adopted  country,  he  soon 
proceeded  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  armj  at  Morris- 
town,  and  from  thence  to  the  seat  of  government,  to 
lay  before  congress  the  official  information  that  the 
French  government  was  preparing  to  send  a  respectable 
naval  and  land  force  to  America,  to  assist  in  the  prose 
cution  of  the  war.  Who  can  describe  the  interview 


MARQUIS   t)E    LA    FAYETTE.  491 

between  La  Fayette  and  Washington;  kindred  spirits 
and  co-patriots;  although  born  in  different  hemispheres 
engaged  in  the  same  cause  of  liberty  and  humanity, — 
one  at  the  head  of  America,  the  other  bringing  into  the 
same  contest  the  auxiliary  power  of  France,  both  hav 
ing  staked  their  fortunes  and  their  lives  on  the  issue  of 
the  great  cause  in  which  they  were  engaged.  Their 
first  interview  after  a  separation  of  some  time,  under 
circumstances  so  auspicious  to  that  cause,  produced 
mutual  feelings  of  joy  and  affection,  too  deep  and  glow 
ing,  to  be  described.  The  subjoined  letters  to  congress, 
and  the  resolution  of  that  body,  afford  some  evidence  of 
the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  at  this  time. 

"Head-Quarters,  Morristown,  May  13,  178U. 
"The  Marquis  LA  FAYETTE  does  me  the  honour  to  take  charge  of  this 
note.  1  am  persuaded  Congress  will  participate  in  the  joy  I  feel  at  the  ro 
turn  of  a  gentleman  who  has  so  signally  distinguished  himself  in  the  ser 
vice  of  this  country;  who  has  given  so  many  and  so  decided  proofs  of  his 
attachment  to  its  interests;  and  who  ought  to  be  dear  to  it  by  every  motive. 
The  warm  friendship  I  have  for  him,  conspires  with  considerations  of  pub 
lic  utility  to  afford  me  a  double  satisfaction  in  his  return.  During  the 
time  he  has  been  in  France  he  has  uniformly  manifested*  the  same  zeal  in 
our  affaire,  which  animated  his  conduct  while  he  was  among  us;  and  has 
been  upon  all  occasions,  an  essential  friend  to  America.  He  merits,  and  I 
doubt  not  congress  will  give  him  every  mark  of  consideration  and  regard 
in  their  power. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  &c. 

GEO.  WASHINGTON. 
To  kis  Excellency  the  President  of  Congress." 

"Philadelphia,  May,  16,  1780. 

"After  so  many  favours,  which,  on  every  occasion  and  particularly  at 
my  obtaining  leave  of  absence,  congress  were  pleased  most  graciously  to 
bestow  on  me,  I  dare  presume  myself  entitled  to  impart  to  them  the  private 
feelings,  which  I  now  so  happily  experience. 

In  an  early  epoch  in  our  noble  contest,  I  gloried  in  the  name  of  an 
American  soldier;  and  heartily  enjoyed  the  honour  I  have  of  serving  the 
United  States;  rny  satisfaction  is,  at  this  long  wished-for  moment  entirely 
complete,  when  putting  an  end  to  my  furlough,  I  have  been  able  again  to 
join  my  colours,  under  which  I  hope  for  opportunities  of  indulging  the 
ardent  zeal,  the  unbounded  gratitude,  the  warm,  and  I  might  say,  the  pat 
riotic  love,  by  which  I  am  for  ever  bound  to  America. 

I  beg  you,  sir,  to  present  congress  with  anew  assurance  of  my  profound 
respect  and  my  grateful  and  aflectionate  sentiments. 

I  havt-  the  honour  to  be,  &.c. 

LA  FAYETTE." 

03 


492  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

In  congress  May  16, 1780.  "Resolved,  That  congress 
consider  the  return  of  the  Marquis  LA  FAYETTE  to  Amer 
ica  to  resume  his  command  in  the  army,  as  a  fresh  proof 
of  the  distinguished  zeal  and  deserving  attachment  which 
have  justly  recommended  him  to  the  public  confidence 
and  applause ;  and  that  they  receive,  with  pleasure  a  ten 
der  of  further  services  of  so  gallant  and  meritorious  an 
officer." 

The  military  operations  had  been  of  little  moment 
during  the  absence  of  LaFayette;  but  the  events  in  Eu 
rope  had  the  most  important  influence  on  the  American 
cause.  Not  only  France  and  Spain  had  acknowledged 
'the  independence  of  the  States,  but  both  of  these  powers 
had  united  in  a  declaration  of  war  against  Great  Brit 
ain.  But  as  there  are  few  advantages  without  some 
accompanying  drawback,  these  events  in  Europe  whilst 
they  were  calculated  to  be  highly  beneficial  to  the  cause 
of  America,  and  diffused  a  spirit  of  joy  through  the 
union,  occasioned  too  great  expectations,  which  opera 
ted  unfavourably,  not  only  on  the  people  but  on  congress. 
Many  thought  the  war  with  France  and  Spain  would 
so  occupy  the  attention  and  means  of  Great  Britain, 
that  she  would  be  obliged  to  abandon  her  project  of 
coercing  her  revolted  colonies  into  submission.  Wash 
ington  laboured  hard  to  convince  congress  ot  the  folly 
of  this  opinion;  that  the  naval  superiority  of  Britain 
over  France  and  Spain  both,  would  render  the  war  with 
them  of  less  consequence  than  was  supposed;  and  that 
this  event, 'instead  of  occasioning  Britain  to  relax,  would 
induce  her  to  redouble  her  exertions,  and  call  forth  all 
•her  energies  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war  with  Ameri 
ca.  It  was  the  dictate  of  policy  as  well  as  safety,  to 
prepare  for  carrying  on  hostilities  on  a  broader  scale 
than  had  yet  been  done. 

On  the  13th  of  July,  Washington  received  intelligence 
from  New-York,  that  a  large  French  squadron  had  been 
seen  off  the  Capes  of  Virginia,  which  was  soon  followed 
by  a  letter  from  Count  de  Rochambeau  and  Chevalier 
de  Tiernay,  acquainting  him  with  their  arrival.  And 
what  rendered  this  intelligence  more  important  and 
agreeabler  Count  dc  Rochambeau  informed  Washington, 


MARQUIS   DE   LA   FAYETTE.  493- 

that  he  had  the  most  positive  orders  to  place  himself 
entirely  under  the  direction  of  the  American  congress. 
La  Fayette  was  requested  by  the  American  commander, 
to  superintend  the  reception  of  his  countrymen;  and  at 
the  same  time  had  confidential  instructions  to  propose 
to  the  new  allies,  a  combined  plan  of  operations  against 
New  York,  then  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

The  first  division  of  the  French  fleet  arrived  at  New 
port,  and  consisted  of  two  ships  of  eighty  guns,  one  of 
seventy-four,  four  of  sixty-four,  two  frigates  of  forty, 
several  smaller  vessels,  and  thirty-two  transports,  under 
the  command  of  Rear  Admiral  de  Tiernay.  There 
were  four  regiments  of  troops  on  board,  besides  the  Duke 
de  Lauzun's  legion,  composed  of  volunteer  noblemen, 
and  a  battalion  of  artillery,  with  a  complete  train  of 
bombarding  and  field  pieces,  all  under  the  command  of 
Lieutenant  General  Rochambeau.  This  was  the  first 
division  of  the  French  squadron,  and  the  second  was  in 
readiness  at  Brest,  waiting  for  transports  to  convey  the 
troops. 

The  two  commanders  were  eqnally  sensible  of  the 
necessity  of  preserving  entire  harmony  between  the 
American  and  French  troops.  Washington  to  produce 
unanimity  of  feeling,  as  well  as  concert  of  action,  di 
rected  his  soldiers  to  wear  with  the  continental  cockade 
a  white  ribbon,  that  being  the  colour  of  the  French 
cockade.  The  services  of  La  Fayette  in  maintaining 
a  good  understanding  between  the  two  armies,  were  of 
the  greatest  importance.  Being  a  French  subject,  and 
an  American  general,  he  was  regarded  as  belonging 
equally  to  both  nations,  and  all  delicate  orders  and 
commissions  were  intrusted  to  him  to  execute;  which 
was  always  done  with  great  circumspection  and  fidelity. 
By  the  express  direction  of  Washington,  he  informed 
the  French  general  of  the  low  condition  of  the  Ameri 
can  army. 

From  various  causes  and  unavoidable  difficulties,  the 
contemplated  attack  on  New  York  was  abandoned,  and 
the  year  '80  passed  away  without  any  military  opera 
tions  of  any  importance. 


494  MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTfc. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  Fayette,  he  was  appointed 
to  the  command  of  the  Jight  infantry  and  dragoons,  being 
the  most  advantageous  situation  in  the  power  of  Wash 
ington  to  give  him;  but  he  performed  no  active  or  impor 
tant  military  service  during  that  year;  indeed  the  low 
condition  of  the  American  army,  the  depreciation  of  the 
continental  currency,  the  prostration  of  public  credit, 
and  the  want  of  spirit  and  activity  among  the  people, 
not  only  formed  insuperable  obstacles  to  any  important 
military  operations,  but  were  calculated  to  produce  the 
most  melancholy  reflections  in  the  mind  of  every  true 
patriot.  No  one  perhaps  was  more  deeply  affected  with 
this  depressed  and  gloomy  aspect  of  affairs,  than  La 
Fayette.  The  state  of  the  cause  here,  but  little  ac 
corded  with  the  expectations  which  he  had  contributed 
to  raise  in  France;  and  he  had  reason  to  fear  that  when 
his  countrymen  arrived  as  allies  to  the  Americans,  they 
might  be  so  disappointed,  that  they  would  feel  but  little 
ardour  to  assist  those,  who  appeared  to  be  doing  so  lit 
tle  to  assist  themselves.  He  may  also  have  apprehend 
ed,  that  from  this  depressed  state  of  the  cause,  his  own 
honour  might  be  impeached,  and  he  be  subjected  to  the 
imputation  of  having  deceived  his  sovereign  and  his 
countrymen,  as  to  the  real  condition  of  America. 

It  was  under  the  influence  of  these  alarming  circum 
stances,  that,  soon  after  his  arrival  at  Morristown,  the 
head  quarters  of  the  army,  he  wrote  the  following  letter 
to  Samuel  Adams: — 

Morristown,  May  30, 1730. 

Dear  <S'ir, — Had  I  known  that  I  would  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you  at  Boston,  and  holding  confidential  conversation  with  you  on  public 
nnd  private  matters,  I  should  have  anticipated  the  uneasiness  1  wts  put 
under  by  the  obligation  of  secrecy,  or  previously  obtained  the  leave  of 
breaking  that  so  strict  law  in  your  favour.  Now,  my  dear  sir,  that  con 
gress  have  set  my  tongue  at  liberty,  at  least  for  such  men  as  Mr.  Samuel 
Adams,  I  will,  in  referring  you  to  a  public  letter  from  the  committee  of 
Congress,  indulge  my  private  feelings  in  imparting  to  you  some  confiden 
tial  ideas  of  mine  on  our  present  situation. 

As  momentary  visits  did  not  entirely  fulfil  the  purpose  of  freeing  Amer 
ica,  France  thought  they  would  render  themselves  more  useful,  if  a  naval 
and  land  force  were  sent  for  co-operating  with  our  troops, and  by  a  longer 
stay  on  the  coast  of  the  continent,  would  give  to  the  States,  a  fair  oppor 
tunity  of  employing  all  their  resources.  The  expectations  arc  very  san- 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  495 

guine  at  Versailles,  and  ought  to  he  more  so,  when  that  letter  shall  be 
received,  by  which  you  know  Congress  engaged  to  furnish  on  their  part, 
five  and  twenty  thousand  Continental  troops,  that  are  to  take  thejield  by 
the  beginning  of  the  spring. 

On  the  other  hand,  my  dear  sir,  all  Europe  have  their  eyes  upon  us: 
They  know  nothing  of  us,  but  by  our  own  reports,  and  our  first  exer 
tions,  which  have  heightened  their  esteem,  and  by  the  accounts  of  the 
enemy,  or  those  of  some  dissatisfied  persons,  which  were  calculated  to 
give  them  a  quite  different  opinion :  so  that,  to  fix  their  own  minds,  all 
the  nations  are  now  looking  at  us;  and  the  consequence  of  America,  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  as  well  as  its  liberty  and  happiness,  must  depend 
upon  the  ensuing  campaign. 

The  succour  sent  by  France,  I  thought  to  be  very  important  when  at 
Versailles:  now  that  I  am  on  the  spot,  I  know  it  was  necessary;  and  if 
proper  measures  are  taken,  I  shall  more  heartily  than  ever  enjoy  the  hap 
piness  I  had  of  being  somewhat  concerned  in  the  operation.  But  if 
things  stood  as  they  now  do,  I  confess  that  whether  as  an  American 
soldier,  whether  as  a  private  man  that  said  a  great  deal,  and  knows  Con 
gress  liave  ordered  much  more  to  be  said  on  the  future  exertions  of 
America, — who  took  a  particular  delight  in  praising  the  patriotic  spirit 
of  the  United  States,  I  would  feel  most  unhappy  and  distressed,  were  I 
to  tell  the  people  that  are  corning  over  full  of  ardour  and  sanguine  hopes, 
that  we  have  no  army  to  co-operate  with  them,  no  provisions  to  feed 
the  few  soldiers  that  are  left,  &c.  But  I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  it  will  not 
be  the  ease ;  and  more  particularly  depending  upon  the  exertions  of  your 
state,  /  know  Mr.  Samuel  Adam's  influence  and  popularity  will  be,  as 
heretofore,  employed  in  the  salvation  and  glory  of  America. 

If  proper  measures  are  taken  for  provisions,  if  the  states  do  immediate 
ly  fill  up  the  continental  battalions  by  good  drafts,  which  is  by  far  the 
best  way;  if  all  the  propositions  of  the  committee  are  speedily  complied 
with,  I  have  no  doubt,  but  that  the  present  campaign  will  be  a  glorious, 
decisive  onerand  that  we  may  hope  for  every  thing  that  is  good:  if,  on 
the  contrary,  time  be  lost,  consider  what  unhappy  and  dishonourable 
consequences  would  ensue  from  our  inability  to  a  co-operation. 

Your  state  began  the  noble  contest,  it  may  be  gloriously  ended  by  your 
state's  exertions,  and  the  example  they  will  once  more  set  to  the  whole 
continent.  The  reception  I  met  with  at  Boston,  binds  me  to  it  by  the 
strongest  ties  of  a  grateful  affection.  The  joy  of  my  heart  will  be  to 
find  myself  concerned  in  an  expedition,  that  may  afford  peculiar  advan 
tages  to  them ;  and  1  earnestly  hope  it  will  be  the  case,  in  the  course  of 
this  (if  proper  measures  are  taken)  glorious  campaign. 

I  flatter  myself  you  will  be  yet  in  Boston,  and  upon  this  expectation,  I 
very  much  depend  for  the  success  of  the  combined  expeditions.  Such 
a  crisis  is  worth  your  being  wholly  engaged  in  it,  as  it  will  be  glorious, 
important,  and,  I  may  say  it  now,  because  necessary  for  the  support  of 
the  great  cause  in  which  you  acted  so  early  and  decisive  a  part.  What 
you  mentioned  confidentially  to  me  at  Boston,!  have  duly  noticed,  and 
shall  ever  remember  with  the  attention  of  a  friend.  For  fulfilling  the 
same  purpose,  I  wish  wo  may  be  under  particular  obligations  to  you  OP 
this  occasion. 


MAR^UfS   DE  LA   PAYETTE. 

Give  me  leave  my  dear  sir, to  suggest  to  you  an  idea  which  I  have  lately 
thought  of;  all  the  continental  officers  labour  under  the  most  shameful 
want  of  clothing.  When  I  say  shameful,  it  is  not  to  them,  who  have  no 
moneyto  buy — no  cloth  to  be  bought.  You  can  conceive  what  may  be 
theirs  and  our  feelings,  when  they  will  be  with  the  French  general  and 
other  officers;  and  from  a  general  idea  of  mankind  and  human  honour  it 
>s  easily  seen  how  much  we  should  exert  ourselves  to  put  the  officers  of 
the  army  in  a  more  decent  situation. 

I  beg,  my  dear  sir,  you  will  present  my  respects  to  your  family,  and 
believe  me  most  affectionately, 

Yours,  LA  FAYETTE. 

The  following  is  the  reply: 

Boston,  June,  1780. 
My  Dtar  Marquis, 

Yesterday  your  very  obliging  letter  of  the  30th  May  was  brought 
to  me  by  Mons.  Guinard. 

The  succour  coming  from  France  will  be  so  seasonable  and  impor- 
tant,  that  if  America  is  not  wanting  to  herself,  she  will  have  it  in  her  pow 
er,  by  the  blessing  of  heaven,  to  gratify  the  utmost  of  her  wishes.  His 
most  Christian  Majesty's  expectations  from  us  must  needs  be  great;  and 
gratitude  to  so  generous  an  ally,  as  well  as  a  due  attention  to  our  own  safe 
ty,  interest  and  honour,  lay  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  be  in  rea 
diness  to  co-operate  with  the  greatest  advantage.  I  have  long  been  fully 
sensible  of  your  most  cordial  and  zealous  attachment  to  our  great  cause; 
and  to  your  personal  representation  to  his  Majesty,  in  addition  to  the  benev 
olence  of  his  royal  heart  I  will  take  the  liberty  to  attribute  his  design  to 
afford  us  such  aid  and  for  so  long  a  time  as  may  put  it  in  our  power  to 
employ  all  our  resources  against  the  enemy. 

It  fortunately  happened  that  the  General  Assembly  of  this  state  was 
sitting  when  the  letter  and  enclosures  from  the  committee  of  Congress 
came  to  the  President  of  the  Council.  They  were  immediately  laid 
before  the  Assembly,  and  I  have  the  pleasure  to  assure  you  that  the  filling 
our  battalions  by  an  immediate  draft,  furnishing  the  army  with  provisions, 
and  every  other  measure  for  the  fulfilling  of  the  just  expectations  of  your 
sovereign  and  of  Congress,  on  this  most  important  occasion  are  the  ob 
jects  of  their  closest  attention.  I  had  for  several  months  past  been 
flattering  myself  with  the  prospect  of  this  aid.  It  strongly  impressed 
my  mind  from  one  circumstance  which  took  place  when  you  was  at  Phil 
adelphia  the  last  year.  But  far  from  certainty,  I  could  only  express  to 
some  confidential  friends  here,  a  distant  hope,  though  as  I  conceived  not 
without  some  good  effect :  at  least  it  seemed  to  enliven  our  spirits  and  an 
imate  us  for  so  great  a  crisis. 

If  it  were  possible  for  one  to  be  forgetful  of  our  all  important  cause 
for  a  moment,  my  particular  friendship/or  you  would  be  a  prevailing  in 
ducement  with  me,  to  make  my  utmost  feeble  exertions  to  prevent  your 
disappointment  after  the  great  pains  you  have  taken  to  serve  us.  I  have 
endeavoured,  and  shall  continue  those  endeavours  while  I  stay  here,  to 
brighten  the  dark  side  of  the  picture  which  your  imagination  has  painted 
in  one  part  of  your  letter  before  me— God  forbid  that  we  should  be  obli- 


5IARQ,UIS   DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

ged  to  tell  our  friends  when  they  arrive,  that  we  have  not  a  sufficient  army 
to  co-operate  with  them,  nor  provision  to  feed  the  few  soldiers  that  are 
left.  1  think  I  may  venture  to  predict  that  this  state  will  comply  with  the 
requisition  upon  her  to  give  the  utmost  respectability  to  our  army  on  so 
promising  an  occasion.  I  was  in  the  Council  Chamber  when  I  received 
your  letter,  and  took  the  liberty  to  read  some  parts  of  it  to  the  members 
present.  I  will  communicate  other  parts  of  it  to  some  leading  members  of 
the  House  of  Representatives,  as  prudence  may  dictate,  particularly  what 
you  mention  of  the  officers'  want  of  clothing. 

I  thank  you,  my  dear  sir,  for  the  friendly  remembrance  you  had  of  the 
hint  I  gave  you  when  you  was  here.  Be  pleased  to  pay  my  most  respectful 
compliments  to  the  Commander  in  Chief,  his  family,  &c.  and  be  assured 
of  the  warm  affection  of  your  obliged  friend  and  very  humble  servant. 

SAMUEL  ADAMS. 

MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

The  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  soon  after  adopted 
a  resolution  for  raising  four  thousand  men,  to  reinforce 
the  continental  army,  affording  a  bounty  to  those  who 
might  enlist,  and  subjecting  those  who  might  be  drafted 
and  should  refuse  to  march,  to  a  fine;  the  select-men  of 
the  towns  were  required  to  furnish  clothing  and  travel 
ling  expenses.  These  patriotic  measures  were  occa 
sioned  by  the  pressing  letter  of  La  Fayette,  together 
with  their  own  sense  of  the  alarming  necessity  of  the 
country. 

General  Arnold,  the  arch  traitor,  having  distinguished 
himself  by  his  predatory  incursion  in  Connecticut,  mark 
ed  with  plunder,  robbery,  murder,  and  every  species  of 
desolation,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  '80,  was  sent 
on  a  similar  depredatory  expedition  to  Virginia.  After 
committing  devestations  at  Richmond,  Smithfield,  and 
elsewhere,  worthy  of  his  character,  he  established  him 
self  at  Portsmouth.  General  La  Fayette,  in  Decem 
ber,  was  sent  at  the  head  of  an  expedition,  to  oppose  his 
desolating  progress.  The  meditated  attack  on  Ports 
mouth,  in  which  the  co-operation  of  the  French  squad 
ron  was  relied  upon,  was  abandoned  in  consequence  of 
the  result  of  a  naval  action,  between  the  French  squad 
ron  and  that  of  the  enemy  under  Admiral  Arburthnot.  La 
Fayette  returned  to  the  head  of  the  Elk,  where  he  receiv 
ed  the  orders  of  Washington,  to  repair  to  Virginia,  to  op 
pose  General  Phillips,  who  embarked  at  Portsmouth,  with 
3,000  troops,  to  attack  Richmond.  La  Fayette  was 


498  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

greatly  embarrassed  and  distressed;  his  army  was  not 
only  greatly  inferior  to  the  enemy,  but  was  destitute  of 
every  thing;  coats,  shoes,  and  but  poorly  supplied  with 
provision.  The  soldiers  were  all  bare-foot,  there  was 
not  one  pair  of  shoes  in  the  army;  and  he  had  no  funds 
or  means  of  supplying  these  pressing  wants  of  his  troops. 
But  such  was  the  affection  of  the  soldiers  for  their  gen 
eral,  that  they  bore  all  their  severe  sufferings  without  a 
murmur.  He  procured  a  loan  of  two  thousand  guineas 
on  his  private  credit  in  Baltimore,  and  supplied  the  most 
urgent  wants  of  his  troops;  and  immediately  proceeded, 
with  the  greatest  despatch,  for  Richmond,  which  he  be 
lieved  the  first  object  of  the  enemy's  incursion,  and  arri 
ved  the  day  before  the  British  made  their  appearance, 
and  thus  saved  the  capital  of  Virginia,  then  the  general 
deposit  of  the  military  supplies  of  the  state.  The  next 
morning  General  Phillips  entered  Manchester,  directly 
oppisite  Richmond  ;  but  the  Marquis  had  taken  so  strong 
a  position,  he  did  not  deem  it  advisable  to  hazard  an  at 
tack,  but  soon  moved  off. 

At  this  period  Virginia  was  invaded  by  Cornwallis, 
Phillips,  and  Arnold,  whose  united  forces  were  immense 
ly  superior  not  only  to  those  under  the  actual  command 
of  La  Fayette,  but  to  any  force  he  could  reasonably  ex 
pect  to  avail  himself  of.  From  appearances,  Virginia 
would  be  speedily  overrun,  and  entirely  conquered:  an 
event  which  would  of  been  attended  with  the  most  se 
rious  consequences:  the  conquest  of  Virginia  would 
have  terminated  all  resistance  in  the  southeren  states. 
Fully  sensible  of  this,  La  Fayette  felt  the  difficulty 
and  responsibility  of  his  situation;  he  had  but  1,000 
continentals,  2,0(JO  militia  and  60  dragoons.  General 
Phillips  died  soon  after  he  left  Richmond,  and  his  de 
tachment  being  united  with  the  troops  of  Cornwallis. 
his  lordship  proceeded  towards  Petersburg.  From  the 
reinforcements  he  had  received,  his  force  amounted  to 
8,000  men;  he  felt  the  greatest  assurance  of  success, 
and  did  not  disguise  his  contempt  for  his  adversary.  In 
some  of  his  letters  he  observed  "The  boy  cannot  possi 
bly  escape  we."  La  Fayette,  with  the  force  he  had, 
was  sensible  he  could  do  no  more  than  watch  the 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE  499 

movements  of  the  enemy:  he  moved  from  Richmond 
to  Chichahominy,  where  he  hoped  to  form  a  junction 
with  General  Wayne,  who  had  been  ordered  from  the 
north  to  reinforce  the  army  in  Virginia.  Cornwallis 
strained  every  nerve  to  prevent  this  junction,  and  to 
bring  La  Fayette  to  action  before  it  could  be  effected, 
pursued  him  with  great  rapidity.  But  he  found  "the 
boy,"  a  match  for  himself;  was  foiled  in  all  his  attempts, 
Fayette  having  succeeded  in  uniting  his  forces  with 
those  of  General  Wayne,  at  Racoon  Ford,  without  any 
loss.  Cornwallis  by  a  hasty  movement,  threw  himself 
between  the  American  army  and  the  public  magazines, 
with  the  view  to  cut  off  the  communications  between 
them;  but  Fayette  by  opening  an  old  road  which  was 
disused,  and  forced  marches,  passed  the  British  army, 
and  to  the  astonishment  of  Cornwallis,  secured  a  strong 
position  between  his  troops  and  the  American  maga 
zines,  at  Albemarle  court-house.  Having  failed  in  all 
his  plans,  the  British  Genera-]  returned  to  Richmond,  and 
from  thence  to  .Williamsburg,  whither  he  was  followed 
by  the  Marquis.  Here  he  received  orders  for  a  part  of 
his  forces  to  return  to  New  York,  Henry  Clinton  being 
apprehensive  of  an  attack  from  the  combined  armies  of 
America  and  France.  Cornwallis  attempted  to  deceive 
Fayette  by  a  stratagem,  and  draw  him  into  an  engage 
ment;  he  knew  the  American  general  would  attack  his 
rearguard,  when  his  main  army  was  passing  the  ford  to 
the  Island  of  Jamestown:  he  accordingly  made  such 
dispositions  as  were  calculated  to  lead  General  La  Fay 
ette  to  suppose  that  the  principal  part  of  his  army  had 
crossed,  when  he  had  detained  them,  expecting  that 
from  this  deception,  Fayette  would  attack  him.  The 
stratagem,  however,  did  not  deceive  La  Fayette,  but 
General  Wayne,  who  had  been  detached  to  reconnoitre 
the  enemy's  position,  supposing  that  the  rear  guard  of 
the  enemy  only  remained,  from  slight  skirmishing,  soon 
found  hinid&lf  engaged  with  the  whole. British  line.  La 
Fayette  proceeded  himself  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy, 
and  discovering  the  stratagem,  he  immediately  ordered 
Wayne  to  retreat,  and  the  British  general  suspecting  an 
ambuscade,  did  not  pursue.  Thus  by  the  circumspec- 

P3 


r>00  MARQUIS    DE    LA 

lion  and  caution  of  La  Fayette,  this  artful  scheme  ot 
Cornwallis  was  defeated,  and  the  troops  under  General 
Wayne  rescued  from  the  most  imminent  danger. 

The  gallantry  of  Wayne,  and  his  detachment,  was 
acknowledged  by  La  Fayette  in  the  general  orders 
issued  the  8th  of  July. — "The  general  is  happy  to  ac 
knowledge  the  spirit  of  the  detachment  under  General 
Wayne,  in  their  engagement  with  the  whole  of  the 
British  army,  of  which  he  was  an  eye  witness.  He 
requests  General  Wayne,  and  the  officers  and  men  un 
der  his  command,  to  accept  his  best  thanks  The  brave 
ry  and  destructive  fire  of  the  riflemen  rendered  essen 
tial  service,  and  the  fire  of  the  light-infantry  checked 
the  enemy's  progress  round  our  right  flank.  The  gen 
eral  was  much  pleased  with  the  conduct  of  Captain 
Savage,  of  the  artillery,  and  is  satisfied  that  nothing 
but  the  loss  of  horses  occasioned  that  of  the  two  field 
pieces.  The  zeal  of  Col.  Mercer's  corps,  is  fully  ex 
pressed  in  the  number  of  horses  he  had  killed. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Cornwallis  encamps  at  York-town,  and  is  followed  by  La  Layette  to  WiUiamsburgh- 
is  reinforced  by  the  allied  troops  disembarked  from  the  French  fleet — Siege  of  York- 
town— Activity  of  La  Fayette— he  storms  a  redoubt— capitulation  of  Cornwallis,  who 
proposes  to  surrender  his  sword  to  La  Fayette — He  repairs  to  Philadelphia,  awl  signi 
fies  to  Congress  bis  desir*  of  returning  to  France — resolution  of  Congress  and  his  re 
ply — he  embarks — Great  respect  glioun  him  in  France — makes  a  tour  in  Germany — 
visits  Frederick  the  Great — and  is  present  at  his  Grand  Review — After  his  return,  ex- 
rrts  himself  to  have  France  send  further  succours  to  the  United  States— proceeds  to 
Cadiz  to  accompany  Count  D'Estaing,  with  a  large  fleet,  to  America,  which  stopped 
by  peace — Visits  the  United  States  in  1784 — respect  shown  him  in  various  places — visits 
Mount  Vernon — honour  ghoxvn  him  by  Congress,  on  his  taking  leave  of  the  country. 

A  COMBINED  attack  on  New  York  had  been  conceived 
in  the  spring,  immediately  after  the  arrival  of  the  French, 
and  matured  at  Hartford  and  Wethersfield,  in  Connec 
ticut;  General  Washington,  the  Count  de  Rochambean, 
La  Fayette,  and  a  great  number  of  American  officers 
having  spent  some  time  in  Connecticut  on  this  business. 
Fortunately  this  object  was  given  up,  and  the  combined 
armies  agreed  to  direct  their  united  forces  against  the 
British  army  in  Virginia.  This  was  so  managed  as  to 
deceive  Sir  Henry  Clinton  with  appearances  of  an  at 
tack  on  New  York,  and  thus  prevent  him  from  reinforcing 
Cornwallis.  On  the  30th  of  August,  at  Chester,  on  their 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  501 

march  to  the  south,  Washington  and  Rochambeau  re 
ceived  the  agreeable  intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  Ad 
miral  De  Grasse  in  the  Chesapeake,  with  a  squadron  of 
twenty-four  ships  of  the  line.  Immediately  3,000 
French  troops  were  disembarked,  commanded  by  the 
Marquis  de  St.  Simon,  and  soon  formed  a  junction  with 
the  American  army  under  La  Fayette.  Cornwallis  at 
this  time  was  encamped  at  Yorktown,  where  he  had 
collected  all  his  forces,  and  he  had  been  followed  to  Wil- 
liamsburg  by  La  Fayette,  who,  although  unable  to  en 
gage  the  eneoiy,  pursued  him  wherever  he  went,  and 
checked  his  designs.  The  arrival  of  the  French  squad 
ron,  and  the  large  reinforcement  he  received,  filled  the 
heart  of  La  Fayette  with  joy,  and  inspired  him  with 
hopes  of  a  glorious  campaign. 

On  the  arrival  of  Washington  and  Count  de  Ro 
chambeau,  they  went  on  board  Count  de  Grasse's  flag 
ship,  to  determine  on  future  operations,  which  was 
followed  by  the •  movement  of  the  combined  army  upon 
York  and  Gloucester,  and  at  the  same  time  the  fleet 
moved  up  to  the  mouth  of  James  River,  having  just 
been  reinforced  by  eight  ships  of  the  line,  under  Count 
de  Barras,  from  Rhode-Island. 

The  seige  of  Yorktown  was  thus  commenced,  which 
reflected  such  lustre  on  the  gallantry  and  spirit  of  the 
combined  armies,  and  terminated  the  most  glorious  rev 
olution  in  the  history  of  the  human  race. 

Having  formed  his  first  parallel,  Washington  com 
menced  the  second,  with  great  activity,  on  the  llth  of 
September.  Alarmed  at  the  despatch  of  the  besiegers, 
Cornwallis  opened  all  his  batteries  to  stop  their  pro 
gress.  His  fire  from  two  redoubts  was  particularly 
annoying,  and  Washington  determined  to  carry  them. 
To  excite  emulation,  ajad  avoid  all  cause  of  jealousy, 
the  attack  of  one  was  committed  to  the  French,  under 
Baron  de  Viominel,  and  the  other  to  a  detachment  of 
Americans,  under  La  Fayette,  who  led  them  to  the  as 
sault  in  person.  This  attack  was  made  with  such  vigour 
and  spirit  that  the  assailants,  without  firing  a  gun,  forced 
their  way  over  the  abattis  and  palisades,  into  the  re- 
doubt>and  made  the  whole  party,  consisting  of  sixty 


502  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

men,  under  Major  Campbell,  prisoners,  with  the  loss  of 
only  nine  men  killed  and  thirty-two  wounded.  The  de 
tachment  had  been  reminded  of  the  massacre  of  the 
garrison  at  fort  Grisvvold,  at  New-London ;  but  La  Fay- 
ette,  Hamilton  and  Laurens  possesed  too  much  humanity 
to  imitate  deeds  of  nithlessness  and  barbarity,  or  to 
take  the  lives  of  men  who  begged  for  quarters,  even 
by  way  of  retaliation.  The  assault  on  the  other  redoubt 
was  equally  successful,  athough  not  without  consider 
able  loss  on  the  part  of  the  French,  the  enemy  being 
much  more  numerous,  and  their  defence  consequently 
more  persevering  and  obstinate.  The  French  lost  100 
killed  and  wounded;  about  half  of  the  enemy  escaped, 
and  the  other  fell  into,  the  hands  of  the  assailants. 
The  coolness  and  gallantry  displayed  by  both  parties, 
excited  the  applause  of  the  commander  in  chief;  he 
expressed  to  La  Fayette  and  De  Viominel  the  high 
sense  he  had  of  their  intrepid  and  able  conduct,  and 
desired  them  to  couvey  his  acknowledgments  to  their 
respective  detatchments.  In  his  orders  he  observes, — 
"The  general  reflects,  with  the  highest  degree  of  plea 
sure,  on  the  confidence  which  the  troops  of  the  two  na 
tions  must  have  in  each  other.  Assured  of  mutual 
support,  he  is  convinced  there  is  no  danger  which  they 
will  not  cheerfully  encounter,  no  difficulty  which  they 
will  not  bravely  overcome." 

As  the  last  effort,  Cornwallis  having  attempted  to  es 
cape  by  passing  in  the  night  his  whole  army  over  on 
to  Gloucester  Point,  and  being  frustrated  by  a  storm, 
finding  that  even  the  elements  seemed  to  have  conspired 
against  him,  the  proud  spirit  of  his  lordship  was  ob 
liged  to  yield  to  a  destiny  which  he  could  no  longer  con 
trol. 

On  the  19th  of  October,  '81,  just  four  years  from  the 
convention  of  Saratoga,  a  second  British  army  of  more 
than  seven  thousand  men,  was  surrendered  to  the  al 
lied  forces  of  France  and  America.  Such  was  the 
fate  of  an  army,  whose  career  had  long  been  success 
ful,  proud  and  triumphant;  which  had  spread  terror 
and  devestation  over  a  vast  extent  of  country;  that 
at  one  period  had  nearly  conquered  all  the  southern 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  503 

states,  and  whose  path  was  traced  by  rain,  desolation 
and    blood. 

In  this  memorable  siege,  La  Fayette  was  particularly 
active  and  serviceable,  and  was  one  of  the  officers  who 
were  honourably  noticed  by  the  commander  in  chief,  as 
having  distinguished  themselves  by  their  intrepid  and 
heroic  conduct.  In  the  universal  joy  which  this  great 
'event-occasioned,  throughout  the  United  States,  no  one, 
perhaps,  rejoiced  more  sincerely  than  this  youthful  pat 
riot  and  hero,  this  early  and  steadfast  friend  of  America. 
He  received  the  thanks,  not  only  of  Washington,  but  of 
Congress,  for  his  gallant  and  heroic  conduct ;  and  the 
State  of  Virginia  afterward  presented  him  with  a  bust, 
for  his  services  in  defence  of  that  state,  against  the  in 
cursions  and  ravages  of  a  lawless  enemy.  His  merit 
was  also  acknowledged  by  the  enemy,  as  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis  was  particularly  desirous  of  treating  with  La  Fay 
ette  alone,  and  surrendering  his  sword  into  his  hands; 
but  the  modesty  of  the  youthful  hero  declined  an  honour 
which  he  considered  belonged  to  another. 

In  November  the  Marquis  repaired  to  Philadelphia, 
where  be  was  received  with  the  warmest  manifestations 
of  gratitude  and  eclat.  He  soon  signified  to  the  Con 
gress  his  desire  of  returning  again  to  France;  on  which 
occasion,  the  resolution  adopted  by  that  body,  is  too 
honourable  a  testimony  of  his  merits  and  of  the  unlim 
ited  confidence  reposed  in  him  by  Congress,  to  be  omit 
ted  in  a  memoir  of  his  life. 

In  Congress,  November,  1781. 

Resolved,  That  Major-General  La  Fayette  have  permission  to  go  to 
France,  and  to  return  at  such  time  as  may  be  most  agreeable  to  himself — 
that  he  be  informed,  that,  on  a  view  of  his  conduct  throughout  the  past 
campaign,  and  particularly  during  the  period  in  which  he  had  the  chief 
command  in  Virginia,  the  many  new  proofs  which  present  themselves  of 
his  zealous  attachment  to  the  cause  he  has  espoused,  and  of  his  judgment, 
vigilance,  gallantry,  and  address  in  its  defence,  h^ve  greatly  added  to  the 
high  opinion  entertained  by  congress  of  his  merits  and  military  talents — 
that  he  make  known  to  the  officers  and  troops  whom  lie  commanded  during 
that  period,  that  the  brave  and  enterprising  services,  with  which  they  se 
conded  his  zeal  and  efforts,  and  which  enabled  him  to  defeat  the  attempts 
of  an  enemy,  far  superior  in  numbers,  have  been  beheld  by  Congress  with 
particular  satisfaction  and  approbation.  That  the  secretary  of  foreign 
affairs  acquaint  the  Ministers  Plenipotentiaries  of  the  United  States,  that 


,104  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

'it  is  the  desire  of  Congress  that  iliey  confer  with  the  Marquis  La  FayettQf 
and  avail  of  his  information,  relative  to  the  situation  of  public  affairs  in 
the  United  States.  That  the  secretary  for  foreign  affairs,  further  acquaint 
the  Minister  Plenipotentiary  at  the  Court  of  Versailles,  that  he  will  con 
form  to  the  intention  of  Congress,  hy  consulting  with,  and  employing  the 
assistance  of  the  Marquis  La  Fayette,  in  accelerating  the  supplies  which 
may  be  afforded  by  his  most  Christian  Majesty  for  the  United  States.  That 
the  superintendent  of  finance,  the  secretary  for  foreign  affairs  and  the  board 
of  war,  make  such  communications  to  the  Marquis,  touching  the  affairs  of 
their  respective  departments,  as  will  best  enable  him  to  fulfil  the  purpose 
of  the  preceding  resolutions.  That  the  superintendent  of  finance,  lake 
order  for  discharging  the  engagements  entered  into  by  the  Marquis  La 
Fayette,  with  the  merchants  of  Baltimore,  when  he  borrowed  money  of 
them  on  his  own  credit,  to  supply  our  troops  with  necessaries." 

At  the  same  time,  Congress  ordered  that  a  conveyance 
be  provided  for  General  La  Fayette,  in  a  public  vessel, 
whenever  he  should  choose  to  embark;  and  voted  to 
send  a  letter  by  him  to  the  King  of  France. 

The  following  is  the  reply  of  the  Marquis  to  the  Pres 
ident  of  Congress,  who  forwarded  him  the  resolves: — 

"Sia — I  have  been  honoured  with  the  resolutions  which  congress  have 
been  pleased  to  pass  in  my  favour.  Testimonies  of  their  esteem  and 
their  confidence  that  are  so  very  flattering  to  me,  could  not  but  excite 
those  exalted  sentiments  of  gratitude  which  I  am  unable  sufficiently  to 
express.  My  attachment  to  America,  the  sense  of  my  obligations,  and 
the  new  favours  conferred  upon  me  are  so  many  everlasting  ties  thai  de~ 
vote  me  to  her.  At  all  times,  and  in  every  part  of  the  world,  my  heart 
will  be  panting  for  opportunities  to  be  employed  in  her  service.  With 
unspeakable  pleasure  I  shall  transmit  the  resolve  of  Congress  to  the  brave 
3uid  virtuous  troops,  whom  it  has  been  my  happiness  to  command. 
J  have  the  honour  to  be,  &c. 

LA  FAYETTE." 

The  foregoing  resolution  of  Congress  he  transmitted 
to  the  troops,  lately  under  his  command  ;in  doing  which 
he  remarks: — "In  the  moment  the  Major  General  leaves 
this  place,  he  wishes  once  more  to  express  his  gratitude 
to  the  brave  corps  of  light-infantry,  who,  for  nine  months 
past,  have  been  the  companions  of  his  fortunes.  He  can 
never  forget,  that,  with  them  alone,  of  regular  troops,  he 
had  the  good  fortune  to  manoeuvre  before  an  army, 
which,  after  all  its  reductions,  was  still  six  times  more 
numerous  than  the  regular  force  he  had  under  com 
mand." 


MARQUIS    DE   LA    FAYETTE. 

It  being  evident  that  the  American  Revolutionary 
struggle  was  drawing  on  to  a  close,  in  December,  '81, 
he  embarked  the  second  time  for  France,  leaving  the 
grateful  homage  of  one  country  to  receive  the  admira 
tion  and  applause  of  another. 

On  his  arrival  in  France,  he  was  received  with  that 
enthusiastic;  manifestation  of  respect  and  applause,  which 
his  achievements  and  fame  were  calculated  to  inspire, 
His  chivalrous  heroism,  and  ardent  attachment  to  liber 
ty,  were  not  more  conspicuous  than  his  modesty,  a  trait 
for  which  his  countrymen  are  not  very  distinguished; 
yet,  nevertheless,  in  so  young  a  man,  it  increased  his 
reputation  even  with  Frenchmen.  Having  related  to 
the  king  a  long  account  of  the  events  and  progress  of 
the  American  war,  without  having  said  one  word  about 
himself,  his  majesty  could  not  forbear  to  remark: — "But 
pray  sir,  where  were  you  all  this  time?" 

He  remained  six  weeks  in  Paris,  during  which  time, 
having  received  continually  the  most  distinguished  hon 
ours  and  attention  from  all  classes,  from  the  king  to  the 
street-porter,  from  the  inhabitants  of  "gorgeous  palaces" 
to  the  wretched  inmate.s  of  garrets  and  cellars,  he  be 
came  surfeited  with  applause,  and  anxious  to  realize 
the  roore  quiet  and  substantial  enjoyments  which  he 
could  find  only  in  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

In  the  universal  respect,  shown  to  the  youthful  hero  of 
America,  Madame  La  Fayette  came  in  for  a  share. — 
At  a  large  assembly,  at  the  Duke  Choiseul's,  Voltaire 
publicly  complimented  her  on  the  patriotic  virtues  of  her 
husband.  Louis  was  so  satisfied  with  the  conduct  of 
the  Marquis  in  America,  that  he  bestowed  on  him  many 
favours;  and  the  queen  was  so  delighted  with  him  that 
she  presented  him  with  her  miniature. 

His  journey  from  Paris  to  his  estates  in  Lorraine,  with 
his  wife  and  son  George,  then  three  years  of  age,  was 
one  continued  triumph,  notwithstanding  his  intention, 
and  the  precautions  he  made  use  of,  to  have  it  entirely- 
private.  Every  where  bells  were  Fung,  processions 
formed,  and  crowds  assembled  around  him,  crying, "long 
Jive  La  Fayette!"  At  the  city  of  Orleans  he  was  de 
tained  nearly  a  week,  by  the  festivities  prepared  for  him. 


MARQ.U1S    DE  LA    FAYETTE* 

In  the  year  '82,  he  made  a  tour  to  Germany,  and  vis 
ited  many  of  the  German  princes,  all  of  whom  received 
him  with  attention;  hut  his  more  particular  object  was 
to  see  Frederick  the  Great,  whose  character  had  long 
attracted  general  attention  in  Europe.  He  was  present 
at  Pottsdam,  during  the  grand  review,  when  50,000  men 
were  assembled  under  the  immediate  cornmand  of  the 
king.  During  three  days,  various  evolutions  of  battles, 
sieges,  and  assaults,  were  gone  through  with,  under  the 
eye  and  direction  of  the  Great  Frederick,  mounted  on 
his  white  charger,  with  his  little  three-cornered  cocked 
hat,  his  thread-bare  blue  jacket,  and  his  opera  glass  in 
his  hand.  This  was  a  grand  and  highly  interesting  ex 
hibition;  the  "tented  field,"  formed  by  their  encamp 
ment,  resembled  an  immense  city.  Thesk  reviews  took 
place  every  autumn,  and  attracted  numerous  strangers 
and  foreigners  of  distinction.  It  is  on  these  occasions 
that  all  promotions,  rewards,  punishments,  and  discipli 
nary  regulations,  were  published,  by  being  three  times 
read  at  the  head  of  each  company. 

Frederick  was  no  sooner  informed  that  La  Fayette 
was  present,  than  hedesptched  an  aid-de-camp  to  invite 
him  to  the  palace  of  Sans  Souci.  In  a  long  audience 
which  he  had  with  Frederick,  the  latter,  after  compli 
menting  La  Fayette,  expressed  his  admiration  of  Wash 
ington,  and  presenting  his  miniature,  set  in  diamonds,  to 
La  Fayette,  he  observed,  "that  since  he  must  be  separa 
ted  from  the  general,  he  hoped  this  little  memento  would 
sometimes  recall  him  to  recollection/' 

The  respect  manifested  by  Frederick,  considering  his 
despotic  principles  and  severe  character,  for  Washington 
and  Layette,  the  two  great  champions  of  liberty,  is 
creditable  to  him,  and  could  only  have  proceeded 
from  the  admiration  which  true  greatness  always  shows 
to  genius  and  distinguished  talent,  wherever  they  may 
be  found. 

La  Fayette,  in  his  travels  and  observations  of  the  af 
fairs  of  Europe,  did  not,  for  a  moment,  lose  sight  of  the 
interests  of  America ;  and  early  in  the  year  '83,  after  his 
return  to  France,  from  his  tour,  manifested  great  anxiety 
to  have  the  treaty  of  peace  between  Great  Britain  and 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  507 

America  and  France,  difmitely  ratified,  the  preliminaries 
of  which  had  been  entered  into  the  preceding  year.  He 
apprehended  that  the  Court  of  St.  James  did  not  intend 
to  ratify  the  treaty,  and  urged  on  the  French  government 
the  propriety  of  affording  additional  assistance  to  Amer 
ica,  as  a  means  of  inducing  Britain  to  conclude  the 
treaty.  Accordingly  La  Fayette  was  permitted  to  re 
turn  to  America  once  more,  and  orders  were  given  to 
Count  D'Estaing  to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  proceed 
from  Cadiz,  with  his  fleet  and  troops  on  board,  to  the 
United  States,  as  soon  as  La  Fayette  might  join  him. 
But  the  treaty  being  ratified,  the  expedition  was,  of 
course,  abandoned.  He  went  to  Cadiz,  where  he  found 
forty-nine  ships,  and  twenty  thousand  men  ready  to  fol 
low  him,  and  which  would  have  been  in  America  early 
in  the  spring,  had  not  peace  been  concluded.  He  com 
municated  the  first  intelligence  of  this  event  to  Congress, 
by  a  letter  dated  Cadiz,  February  5,  1783. 

The  great  object  of  the  war  being  obtained,  the  inde 
pendence  and  freedom  of  the  United  States  of  America 
acknowledged  and  established,  those  who  had  been  the 
compatriots  and  associates  in  arms  in  the  United  States 
with  La  Fayette,  in  this  great  and  glorious  cause,  were 
very  anxious  of  embracing  him  once  more  on  that  soil, 
now  no  longer  marked  with  the  traces  of  oppression, 
which  had  been  the  theatre  of  their  united  toils,  suffer 
ings,  and  triumphs.  La  Fayette  was  not  less  desirous 
to  revisit  a  country  that  he  had  found  oppressed,  and 
struggling  for  its  rights,  and  which  he  had  contributed 
to  render  independent,  sovereign,  and  free.  The  press 
ing  invitation  of  Washington,  and  many  other  friends, 
was  accordingly  accepted,  and,  having  arranged  his 
affairs,  in  July,  '84,  he  embarked  from  Havre  for  Ameri 
ca  the  third  time. 

There  are  few,  if  any  examples,  in  history,  of  an  in 
dividual  who  has  assisted,  by  his  services,  his  fortune 
and  his  blood,  to  secure  the  independence,  liberty  and 
peace  of  a  foreign  and  distant  people,  revisiting  the 
same  people,  on  their  pressing  solicitation,  as  the  "guest 
of  the  nation,"  to  witness  the  fruits  of  his  labours,  the 
blessings  of  peace  and  freedom,  and  receive  the  grati- 


JOB  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

tude  and  homage  of  millions,  in  the  enjoyment  of  these 
blessings.  This  distinguished  honour  and  distinguished 
felicity,  La  Fayette  has  twice  enjoyed. 

He  arrived  at  New-York,  after  a  passage  of  thirty- 
four  days,  on  the  4th  of  August,  1784.  The  knowledge 
of  his  arrival  was  communicated  with  rapidity,  and  he 
immediately  was  surrounded  by  the  officers  and  citizens, 
who  welcomed  his  return,  and  offered  to  him  their  con 
gratulations.  The  day  following  his  arrival  a  public 
entertainment  was  given  him,  at  which  all  the  officers 
appeared  in  their  "continentals,"  both  uniforms  and  ac 
coutrements,  which  served  to  produce  a  more  fraternal 
feeling  among  the  co-patriots  and  fellow-officers  of  the 
late  arduous  struggle,  now  so  successfully  and  gloriously 
terminated. 

From  New  York  he  proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  where 
he  was  met  by  the  officers  of  the  army  and  a  vast  con 
course  of  citizens,  and  escorted  to  the  house  of  the  gov 
ernor.  In  the  evening  an  universal  illumination  took 
place?  there  was  not  a  single  house  in  the  city  but  what 
illuminated.  On  this  present  visit,  also,  this  city  hon 
oured  La  Fayette  with  an  illumination,  more  universal 
and  splendid  than  any  thing  of  the  kind  which  had  been 
witnessed  any  where  else.  The  next  day  he  was  wait 
ed  on  by  Generals  St.  Clair,  Wayne,  and  Irwine,  as  a 
committee  in  behalf  of  the  citizens;  and  the  legislature 
being  in  session,  appointed  a  deputation,  consisting  of 
one  member  from  a  county,  who  addressed  him  in  their 
own  name  and  that  of  their  constituents;  they  also  in 
corporated  a  county  in  the  western  section  of  the  state, 
by  the  name  of  La  Fayette. 

From  Philadelphia  he  repaired  to  Baltimore,  and  from 
thence  hastily  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  see  and  embrace  his 
beloved  Washington,  now  no  longer  the  head  of  the 
American  armies,  and  the  master-spirit  of  the  revolu 
tion,  but  a  private  citizen,  living  in  retirement  on  his 
plantation.  It  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  describe 
the  interview  between  these  two  illustrious  individuals. 
Born  in  different  hemispheres,  and  apparently  to  differ 
ent  fortunes  and  different  ends,  they  have  nevertheless 
become  united  by  the  strong  tics  of  affection,  principle 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  509 

and  sympathy,  and  by  their  common  toils  and  sufferings 
i »  the  same  cause,  and  that  cause  so  sacred  in  itself,  so 
dear  to  the  hearts  of  both,  and  so  gloriously  successful, 
guaranteeing  the  blessings  of  peace  and  liberty  to  a  na 
tion,  and  establishing  the  fame  of  all  who  had  acted  a 
distinguished  part  in  it, — an  interview  between  two  such 
individuals,  under  such  circumstances,  after  an  absence 
of  nearly  two  years,  which  had  served  to  give  maturity 
to  the  fruits  of  their  exertions,  and  increase  their  mutu 
al  affection, — as  it  is  without  example,  so  it  scarcely 
belongs  to  this  earth;  it  is  rather  like  an  interview  be 
tween  superior  beings,  rejoicing  at  the  happiness  they 
had  conferred  upon  mortals. 

La  Fayette  remained  at  Mount  Yernon  twelve  days, 
when  he  returned  to  Baltimore,  and,  after  a  short  stay, 
he  went  on  to  New  York  and  proceeded  eastward  to 
Boston,  passing  through  the  principal  towns  in  the  route, 
and  was  every  where  received  with  the  most  hearty 
welcome  and  the  most  lively  demonstrations  of  grateful 
hearts.  On  approaching  Boston,  he  was  met  ar  Water- 
town  by  the  whole  body  of  the  late  army,  and  addressed 
in  their  behalf  by  his  personal  friend,  Gen.  Knox.  The 
legislature  being  in  session,  a  resolve  was  immediately 
adopted,  inviting  him  to  meet  the  members  of  the  two 
houses  in  the  senate-room,  where  he  was  addressed  by 
the  governor  in  terms  of  respect  and  affection.  He  went 
east  as  far  as  Maine,,  and  having  visited  the  considera 
ble  towns,  he  returned  to  Boston,  where  he  embarked  for 
the  Chesapeake.  He  made  a  second  visit  to  Mount 
Vernon,and  passed  through  the  principal  towns  on  the 
way.  On  his  return,  Washington  came  with  him  to  An 
napolis,  where  he  took  an  affectionate,  and  then  thought, 
as  it  proved  to  be,  a  final  farewell  of  Washington  arid 
numerous  friends,  and  received  the  last  benedictions  of 
his  illustrious  friend  and  adopted  parent. 

Before  leaving  the  United  States,  he  deemed  it  proper 
to  take  respectful  leave  of  Congress,  then  in  session  at 
Trenton,  where  he  arrived  on  the  8th  of  December. — 
La  Fayette  having  addressed,  a  note  to  congress,  signi 
fying  his  intention,  a  committee  was  appointed,  consist 
ing  of  one  from  a  state,  to  give  greater  dignity  to  the 


510  MARQFIS    DE    LA   FAYETTE. 

proceeding,  to  receive  and  take  leave  of  the  Marquis  in 
the  name  of  Congress,  and  the  nation,  and  to  assure 
him  that  congress  continued  to  entertain  the  same  high 
sense  of  his  zeal  and  services  to  promote  the  welfare  of 
the  United  States,  both  here  and  in  Europe,  which  they 
had  frequently  manifested  on  former  occasions.  The 
committee  received  the  guest  of  the  nation  in  congress 
hall,  and  communicated  to  him  the  resolve  of  that  body, 
to  which  the  Marquis  made  the  following  dignified  and 
affectionate  reply: — 

'<While  it  pleases  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  so  kindly  to  re- 
ceive  me,  I  want  words  to  express  the  feelings  of  a  heart,  which  delights 
in  their  present  situationr  and  in  the  public  marks  of  their  esteem. 

uSince  I  joined  the  standard  of  liberty,  to  this  wished-for  hour  of  my 
personal  congratulations,  I  have  seen  such  glorious  deeds  performed  and 
viitues  displayed,  by  the  sons  of  America,  that  in  the  instant  of  my  first 
concern  for  them,  I  had  anticipated  but  a  part  of  the  love  and  regard 
which  devote  me  to  this  rising  empire. 

"During  our  revolution,!  obtained  an  unlimited,  indulgent  confidence, 
which  I  am  equally  proud  and  happy  to  acknowledge;  it  dates  with  the 
time,  when  an  inexperienced  youth,  I  could  only  claim  my  respected 
friend's  paternal  adoption.  It  has  been  most  benevolently  continued 
throughout  every  circumstance  of  the  cabinet  and  the  field ;  and  in  person 
al  friendship  I  have  often  found  a  support  against  public  difficulties. — 
While  on  this  solemn  occasion,  I  mention  ray  obligations  to  congress,  the 
states,  and  tlic  people  at  large,  permit  me  to  remember  my  dear  military 
companions,  to  whose  services  their  country  is  so  much  indebted. 

"Having  felt  both  for  the  timely  aid  of  my  country,  and  for  the  part 
she,  with  a  beloved  king,  acted  in  the  cause  of  mankind,  I  enjoy  an  alli 
ance  so  well  rivetted  by  mutual  affection,  by  interest  and  even  local  situa 
tion.  Recollection  ensures  it.  Futurity  does  but  enlarge  the  prospect; 
and  the  private  intercourse  will  every  day  increase,  which  independent  and 
advantageous  trade  cherishes  in  proportion  as  it  is  justly  understood. 

"In  unbounded  wishes  to  America,  I  am  happy  to  observe  the  prevail 
ing  disposition  of  the  people  to  strengthen  the  confederation,  preserve 
public  faith,  regulate  trads;  and  in  a  proper  guard  over  continental  maga 
zines  and  frontier  posts,  in  a  general  system  of  militia, in  foreseeing  atten 
tion  to  the  navy,  to  ensure  every  kind  of  safety.  May  this  immense  tem 
ple  of  freedom  ever  stand  a  lesson  to  oppressors,  an  example  to  the  op 
pressed,  a  sanctuary  for  the  rights  of  mankind !  And  may  these  happy 
United  Slates  attain  that  complete  splendour  and  prosperity,  which  will 
illustrate  the  blessings  of  their  government,  and  for  ages  to  come,  rejoice 
the  departed  souls  of  its  founders. 

"However  unwilling  to  trespass  on  your  time,  I  must  yet  present  you 
with  my  grateful  thanks  for  the  late  favours  of  congress;  and  never  can 
they  oblige  me  so  much,  as  when  they  put  it  in  my  power,  in  every  part  of 
the  world,  and  to  the  latest  day  of  my  life, to  gratify  the  attachment  which 


MARQUIS   DE   LA   FAYETTE.  511 

%vill  ever  rank  me  among  the  most  zealous  and  respectful  servants  of  the 
United  States." 

Congress  at  the  same  time  also  resolved,  that  the 
president  of  their  body,  address  a  letter  to  the  King  of 
France,  expressive  of  the  high  sense  which  the  United 
States  entertain  of  the  talents  and  meritorious  servi 
ces  of  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  and  recommending 
him  to  the  particular  favour  and  patronage  of  his  Ma 
jesty. 

La  Fayette  went  from  Trenton  to  New  York,  where 
in  a  few  days  he  embarked  for  France,  in  a  frigate  that 
was  waiting  for  him.  On  his  departure  he  was  honour 
ed  by  the  waving  standards  of  the  United  States  from 
the  forts,  and  by  the  discharge  of  thirteen  cannon,  an 
nouncing  the  number  of  states  which  regretted  his  de 
parture,  and  whose  best  wishes  he  carried  with  him. 
During  this  visit  many  of  the  states  passed  acts  con 
ferring  the  right  of  citizenship  on  La  Fayette,  and  his 
male  descendants  for  ever. 

At  the  time,  this  separation  between  La  Fayette  and 
America,  must  have  been  believed,  both  by  himself  and 
his  friends  here,  to  be  the  last;  and  however  lively  an 
interest  he  might  be  supposed  to  continue  to  feel  for  her 
welfare,  it  could  hardly  have  been  expected  that  he 
would  again  revisit  a  country  which  had  been  the  thea 
tre  of  his  early  achievements,  of  his  brigthest  glory; 
which  was  still  the  dearest  object  of  his  attachments 
and  hopes,  and  which  contained  so  many  of  his  dearest 
and  most  venerated  friends.  In  leaving  the  shores  of 
the  United  States,  under  such  circumstances,  his  feelings 
must  have  been  deeply  affected;  and  likewise  those  of 
the  numerous  friends  he  left  behind.  To  most  of  the 
latter,  the  parting  was  for  ever  on  earth;  but  the  life  of 
this  illustrious  man,  has  been  spared,  through  all  the 
vicissitudes  which  he  has  since  passed,  that  whilst  he 
was  on  the  confines  of  the  earth  and  about  to  leave  it, 
for  another  and  better  world,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly 
half  a  century,  he  should  be  permitted  like  a  departed 
spirit  returning  to  the  earth,  to  revisit  this  favoured  land 
of  promise,  and  witness  the  countless  blessings  enjoyed 
by  a  numerous  and  grateful  people,  flowing  from  inder 


512  MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

pendence,  peace,  free  institutions,  and  well-regulated 
social  order,  the  holy  and  imperishable  fruits  of  the 
blood  and  toils  of  the  heroes  and  patriots  of  a  glorious 
revolution,  of  whom  he  is  one  of  the  chief,  and  almost 
the  only  survivor.  This  is  a  felicity  which  no  mortal 
has  ever  before  enjoyed ;  it  was  reserved  for  La  Fay- 
ette,  the  first  of  patriots  and  philanthropists. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

After  his  arrival  in  France  he  engages  in  various  philanthropic  objects  Virginia  places 
his  bust  in  the  capitol  of  that  state,  and  one  at  Paris — He  again  visits  Germany— 1»  a 
member  of  the  Assembly  of  .Notables— proposes  various  reforms— Is  elected  a  mem 
ber  ot  the  States-General — proposes  a  bill  of  right? — procures  a  decree  for  the  ac 
countability  of  ministers — Fall  of  the  Bastile — Is  appointed  to  command  the  National 
Guards — Exerts  himself  to  complete  the  constitution — ^aves  the  Royal  family  at  Ver 
sailles — He  commands  the  National  Guards  at  the  ceremony  of  Champ  de  Mars- 
Swears  to  the  constitution  in  the  name  of  the  nation— Coalition  against  France — He  is 
appointed  to  command  one  of  the  armies— Military  operations— Is  denounced  by  the 
Jacobin  faction — He  addresses  a  letter  to  the  Assembly— appears  before  their  bar. 

GENERAL  LA  FAYETTE,  is  one  of  the  few  individuals, 
who  during  a  long  arid  eventful  life,  abounding  in  vicis 
situdes  and  trials,  has  maintained  the  most  scrupulous 
consistency  of  conduct  and  integrity  of  principle.  The 
happiness  of  his  fellow-creatures  seems  to  have  been  the 
leading  object  of  all  his  actions,  and  we  always  find 
him  engaged  in  acts  of  private  beneficence  or  public 
utility:  he  has  always  been  on  the  side  of  truth,  justice, 
and  liberty.  Soon  after  his  return  to  France  he  is  found 
taking  a  strong  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  Batavian 
patriots,  and  uniting  his  influence  and  exertions  with 
those  of  the  celebrated  philosopher  Malescherbes,  in 
the  cause  of  the  French  protestants;  while  at  the  same 
time,  he  joined  a  society  whose  object  was,  the  gradual 
emancipation  of  the  blacks  held  in  slavery,  particularly 
in  the  French  colonies.  In  this  last  philanthropic  and 
benevolent  scheme,  he  spent  much  time  and  money,  and 
it  is  believed  that  his  exertious  and  those  of  his  associ 
ates  would  have  done  much  towards  meliorating  the 
condition  of  the  unfortunate  Africans,  had  they  not  been 
arrested  by  the  rapid  developement  of  the  first  scenes  in 
the  great  drama  of  the  French  revolution. 

In  the  year '86,  Virginia,  in  consideration  of  his  servi 
ces  rendered  to  that  state,  by  an  act  of  the  assembly, 


MARQUIS   DE    LA   FAYETTE.  013 

directed  the  bust  of  La  Fayette  to  be  placed  in  the 
capitol  of  the  state;  and  at  the  same  time  authorized 
Mr.  Jefferson,  then  the  American  minister  at  Paris, 
to  cause  the  like  statue  to  be  placed  in  the  metropolis 
of  France,  with  the  consent  of  the  municipal  authority 
of  the  city.  In  his  letter  to  the  municipality  of  Paris, 
Mr.  Jefferson  says, — "The  Legislature  of  the  state  of 
Virginia,  in  consideration  of  the  services  of  Major  Gen. 
the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  has  resolved  to  place  his 
bust  in  their  capitol.  This  intention  of  erecting  a  mon 
ument  to  his  virtues,  and  to  the  sentiments  with  which 
he  has  inspired  them,  in  the  country  to  which  they 
are  indebted  for  his  birth,  has  induced  a  hope  that  the 
city  of  Paris  would  consent  to  become  the  depository 
of  a  second  proof  of  their  gratitude.  Charged  by  the 
state  with  the  execution  of  this  resolution,  I  have  the 
honour  to  solicit  the  Prevot  des  Marchands  and  munici 
pality  of  Paris  to  accept  the  bust  of  this  brave  officer, 
and  give  it  a  situation  where  it  may  continually  a- 
waken  the  admiration,  and  witness  the  respect  of  the 
allies  of  France." 

The  proposition,  meeting  with  the  decided  approba 
tion  of  the  local  authorities,  and  of  the  king  to  whom 
it  was  submitted,  the  bust  of  La  Fayette,  executed  by 
the  order  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  by  Mr.  Houden,  was  placed 
in  one  of  the  galleries  of  the  city-hall,  with  great  cer 
emony,  an  eloquent  address  having  been  delivered  on 
the  occasion,  by  the  attorney-general,  in  which  he 
sketched  in  the  most  impressive  manner,  the  important 
services  of  La  Fayette  in  North  America,  the  confi 
dence  the  nation  reposed  in  him,  and  the  unbounded 
affection  of  the  people  for  him. 

In  the  year '86,  La  Fayette  again  made  a  tour  through 
various  parts  of  Germany,  and  visited  the  courts  of 
Vienna  and  Berlin.  But  whilst  extending  his  know 
ledge  by  acquainting  himself  with  the  affairs  of  other 
nations,  the  deep  interest  he  felt  in  the  welfare  of  Amer 
ica,  was  not  it  any  degree  impaired  or  diminished, 
and  during  his  travels,  he  was  distressed  and  alarmed 
at  the  intelligence  he  received  of  the  disorders  which 
prevailed  in  the  United  States,  the  discords  and  disaf- 


£14  MAlUtUIS    DE   LA    FAYETTE. 

fection  of  the  people,  the  low  state  of  public  credit, 
the  disregard  of  the  authority  of  congress,  and  the 
crude  political  notions  and  general  spirit  of  insubordi 
nation  which  every  where  prevailed;  and  which  in 
one  state  had  led  to  actual  insurrection.  Deeply  im 
pressed  with  these  alarming  circumstances  relating  to 
his  beloved  America,  he  addressed  to  Washington  a 
letter,  filled  with  noble  and  patriotic  sentiments,  and 
which  shows  the  anxiety  that  he  still  continued  to  feel 
in  common  with  all  real  patriots  here,  for  the  welfare 
and  prosperity  of  the  United  States  then  placed  in  the 
most  critical  condition. 

'"About  this  time,"  says  Marshall,  "Gen.  Washington 
received  a  long  and  affectionate  letter  from  the  Mar 
quis  de  La  Fayette,  who  had  just  returned  from  a 
tour  through  the  north  of  Europe.  In  communicating 
the  occurrences  at  the  courts  he  had  visited,  and  es 
pecially  at  that  of  Prussia,  whose  aged  and  distin 
guished  monarch,  uniting  the  acquirements  of  the  schol 
ar  with  the  most  profound  skill  in  the  art  of  war, 
could  bestow  either  literary  or  military  fame,  he  dwelt 
with  enthusiasm  on  the  plaudits  which  were  universally 
bestowed  on  his  military  patron  and  paternal  friend. 
"I  wish"  he  added,  "the  other  sentiments  I  have  had 
occasion  to  discover  with  respect  to  America,  were 
equally  satisfactory  with  those  that  are  personal  to 
yourself.  I  need  not  say  that  the  spirit,  the  firmness, 
with  which  the  revolution  was  condu^  t™!,  has  excited 
universal  admiration.  That  every  friend  to  the  rights 
of  mankind  is  an  enthusiast  for  the  principles  on  which 
those  constitutions  are  built: — but  I  have  often  had 
the  mortification  to  hear  that  the  want  of  powers  in 
congress,  of  union  between  the  states,  of  energy  in 
their  government,  would  make  the  confederation  very 
insignificant.  By  their  conduct  in  the  revolution,"  he 
added  "the  citizens  of  America  have  commanded  the 
respect  of  the  world;  but  it  grieves  me  to  think  they 
will  in  a  measure  lose  it,  unless  they  strengthen  the  con 
federation,  give  congress  power  to  regulate  their  trade. 
pay  off  their  debt,  or  at  least  the  interest  of  it,  estab 
lish  a  well-regulated  militia,  and  in  a  word,  complete 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE.  515 

all   those  measures  which  you    have    recomended   to 
them. 

"Unhappily  for  us,"  said  the  general  in  reply,  "though 
the  reports  you  mention  are  greatly  exaggerated,  our 
conduct  has  laid  the  foundation  for  them.  It  is  one  of 
the  evils  of  democratic  governments,  that  the  people 
not  always  seeing,  and  frequently  misled,  must  often 
feel  before  they  act  right.  But  evils  of  this  nature  sel 
dom  fail  to  work  their  own  cure.  It  is  to  be  lamented 
nevertheless,  that  the  remedies  are  so  slow,  and  that 
those  who  wish  to  apply  them  seasonably,  are  not  at 
tended  to  before  they  suffer  in  person,  in  interest,  and 
reputation.  I  am  not  without  hopes  that  matters  will 
soon  take  a  favourable  turn  in  the  federal  constitution. 
The  discerning  part  of  the  community  have  long  since 
seen  the  necessity  of  giving  adequate  powers  to  congress 
for  national  purposes,  and  those  of  a  different  descrip 
tion  must  yield  to  it  ere  long." 

Hitherto  the  career  of  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette 
had  been  uniformly  successful  and  glorious;  his  advance 
in  the  path  of  honour  and  military  fame,  and  in  aiding 
the  cause  of  liberty,  had  been  smooth,  dignified,  and 
without  interruption;  his  popularity,  like  a  placid  but 
magnificent  stream,  increased  in  volume  and  force  as  it 
flowed  smoothly  along,  occasionally  ruffled  by  the  winds, 
but  never  torn  by  cataracts  or  agitated  by  the  rage  of 
the  elements  But  the  time  had  now  arrived  that  he 
was  no  longer  to  enjoy  a  clear  horizon  and  serene  sky, 
without  interruption;  the  smooth  current  of  his  popu 
larity  is  exposed  to  be  agitated  and  broken  by  the  rage 
of  the  most  tremendous  storms,  and  all  the  maddening 
fury  of  the  elements. 

To  have  been  the  successful  hero  and  patriot  of  two 
revolutions,  would  have  been  a  more  glorious  destiny 
than  belonged  to  any  mortal ;  there  is  no  such  example 
in  the  history  of  mankind;  it  was  not  therefore  reserved 
for  La  Fayette.  He  had  acquired  sufficient  glory,  and 
rendered  sufficient  service  to  his  fellow  mortals  by  the 
part  he  had  acted  in  the  American  Revolution ;  this 
will  render  his  name  as  immortal  as  that  of  the  country 
whose  independence  and  liberty  he  contributed  to 

R3 


MAKQ.UIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

establish,  and  as  venerated  as  those  of  the  illustrious 
individuals  with  which  it  is  associated. 

He  was  designed  to  act  a  part  equally,  and  indeed 
much  more  conspicuous  in  the  political  revolution  in 
France,  than  he  had  in  America ;  but  with  much  less  suc 
cess  or  glory ;  not,  however,  from  any  fault  of  his.     He 
contributed  as  much, perhaps  more  than  any  other  indvid- 
ual,  to  give  an  impetus  to  the  ball  of  the  revolution;  but 
having  got  in  motion,  it  was  no  longer  in  his  power  to 
stop  it,  or  even  to  regulate  its  course.     If  we  look  back 
to  the  influence  he  had  on  the  part  taken  by  France  in 
the  American  struggle,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  he  is 
entitled  to  the  honour  of  having  contributed  directly  and 
indirectly,  much  more  towards  producing  the  first  move 
ment  in  favour  of  a  political  reform  in  France,  than  any 
other   individual.     The   struggle   between   the    United 
States  and  Great  Britain,  and  the  part  taken  in  it  by 
France,  is  undoubtedly  the  principal  cause  of  the  dread 
ful  revolution  which  soon  followed  in  that  kingdom.     It 
added  greatly  to  the  public  debt,  and  completely  deran 
ged   the  already   embarrassed  finances  of  the  nation. 
The  American  contest  was  professedly  a  war  for  liberty; 
it  led  to  an   examination  and   discussion,  both  in  the 
United  States  and  in  England,  of  the  first  principles  of 
government,  of  the  rights  of  man,  and  of  the  origin  and 
nature  of  monarchy;  and  these  discussions  were  gener 
ally  republished  in  France,  and   from  a  national  bias, 
the  people  approved  of  the  American  side  of  the  argu 
ment.     The  French  officers  and  soldiers  who  had  been 
engaged  in  the  American  war,  in  some  measure  had  the 
spirit  of  the  revolution  infused  into  their  minds.     Being 
engaged  in  the  same  cause  with  the  Americans,  they 
imbibed  the  same  feelings,  and  in  no  small  degree  adop 
ted  the  same  principles.     It  was  natural,  therefore,  for 
those  who  had  fought  for  liberty  abroad,  to  look  into 
the  political  state  of  their  own  nation ;  and  it  was  a  pain 
ful  reflection  to  all  who  had  contributed  to  establish  the 
independence    and   freedom  of    America,  to  perceive 
the   oppressed  and   degraded   condition  of  their  own 
country. 


MARQUIS   DE   LA   PAYETTE.  517 

In  the  commencement  and  early  part  of  the  revolution, 
the  American  hero  and  patriot,  acted  a  most  distin 
guished  and  influential  part.  He  was  a  member  of  the 
Assembly  of  Notables,  which  convened  in  1787,  and 
was  nominated  one  of  the  members  of  the  committee 
under  the  Count  D'Artois,  the  present  king  of  France. 
Here  he  was  a  zealous  and  intrepid  advocate  for  the 
correction  of  existing  abuses  in  the  government  and  a 
political  reformation.  He  read  several  memorials, 
distinguished  for  their  noble  political  sentiments,  and 
freedom  and  boldness  of  language.  His  zeal  and  inde 
pendence  gave  great  offence  to  the  Count  D'Artois,  and 
called  down  upon  him  the  suspicions  and  hostility  of  the 
court,  which  placed  him  in  a  very  delicate  and  critical 
situation;  but  he  was  supported  by  the  committee,  who 
approved  of  his  memorials.  One  of  the  members  in 
the  warmth  of  his  feelings  said  to  him — "Your  achieve 
ments  in  America  had  already  enrolled  your  name  in 
the  list  of  heroes,  but  never  before  have  you  so  justly 
deserved  that  glorious  distinction.  How  happy  I  should 
be  was  there  a  sculptor  present  to  perpetuate  your 
zeal  for  the  welfare  of  your  country  and  your  king." 
Being  encouraged  from  the  support  he  received,  La 
Fayette  followed  up  his  patriotic  plans,  and  proposed  a 
series  of  reforms,  the  suppression  of  the  state  prisons, 
and  the  let t res  de  cachet^  and  obtained  a  resolution  fa* 
vouring  the  civil  rights  of  the  protestants.  But  the 
most  important  measure  which  he  proposed  was  the 
convocationof  the  States-General,  which  had  so  impor 
tant  an  influence  on  the  destinies  of  France,  and  of  all 
Europe.  "What,"  said  the  Count  D'Artois,  "do  yoa 
ask  for  the  States-General?"  Mlfes,"  replied  La  Fay^ 
ette,"an.d  for  something  more  and  better;" an  intimatioi 
not  then  understood. 

La  Favette  was  chosen  a  deputy  to  this  celebrated 
body,  which  convened  in  the  month  of  May,  1789,  and 
assumed  the  name  of  the  National  Assembly.  He  at 
once  became  a  leading  and  influential  member,  and  as 
vice-president,  presided  during  the  important  sitting  on 
the  night  of  the  13th  and  14th  of  July,  the  moment  the 
Bastile  was  falling  before  the  furious  assaults  of  tb* 
populace. 


SI  8  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

On  the  llth  of  July,  he  submitted  to  the  National 
Assembly,  the  first  declaration  of  the  rights  of  man, 
which  he  introduced  with  the  following  memorable 
language. 

"Although  my  powers  do  not  extend  fo  me  the  right  of  voting  among 
you,  it  is  my  duly  to  lay  my  opinion  before  you. 

"You  have  been  presented  with  the  declaration  of  rights,  as  the  first  ob 
ject  of  your  labour  and  attention. 

"That  declaration  is  indispensable.  It  is  not  founded  upon  metaphys 
ical  opinions,  but  upon  the  very  basis  of  social  order. 

"It  is  of  the  first  importance  that  those  rights  which  are  engraven  on 
every  man's  heart,  should  be  distinctly  and  unequivocally  recognised. 

"Yet  it  is  rny  opinion  that  this  declaration  should  be  confined  to  a 
statement  of  the  unalieriable  rights  of  man,  and  of  man  as  we  find  him  in 
a  state  of  society. 

"I  have  now  the  honour  to  submit  the  first  model  of  such  a  declara 
tion.  ^ 

.  "I  am  far  from  insisting  that  it  shall  be  adopted  as  it  is;  I  only  ask  that 
it  be  copied,  to  be  circulated  freely  among  the  different   committees." 

AI.  de  Lally  Tolendal  arose,  and  said — "With  the  except  ion  of  a  few 
lines,  which  admit,  perhaps,  of  some  little  discussion,  I  second  the  mo 
tion  which  has  just  been  offered.  All  the  principles  contained  therein  are 
the  sacred  emantionsof  truth;  all  the  sentiments  are  noble  and  sublime. 
The  author  of  the  motion  now  displays  as  much  eloquence  in  speak 
ing  of  liberty,  as  he  has  already  shown  courage  in  defending  it. 

It  was  under  his  influence  that  a  decree  was  adopted 
providing  for  the  responsibility  of  the  ministers,  which 
was  predicated  on  one  of  the  elementary  principles  of 
limited  and  representative  monarchy.  He  took  an  ac 
tive  and  influential  part  in  the  important  discussions 
of  this  period,  the  bill  of  rights,  and  the  constitution, 
which  having  been  matured,  was  adopted  and  sworn 
to,  with  the  most  solemn  ceremony,  by  the  members 
of  the  assembly  in  the  Champ  de  Mars,  on  the  14th 
of  July,  1790,the  anniversary  of  the  fall  of  the  Bastile. 

Alter  the  fall  of  this  strong  castle  of  despotism,  before 
the  rude  assault  of  an  immense  armed  multitude,  of  all 
ages  and  conditions,  great  disorders  prevailed  ;  the  peo 
ple  had  become  enraged  and  their  passions  inflamed, 
and  being  encouraged  by  success,  it  was  difficult  to  res 
train  them  or  check  their  excesses.  At  this  critical 
conjuncture,  two  days  after  the  capture  of  the  Bastile, 
La  Fayette  was  appointed  to  command  the  National 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE  519 

Guards  of  Paris,  by'M.  Bailly,  who  had  been  elected 
mayor  of  that  city.  To  increase  the  disorders,  great 
scarcity  prevailed  in  the  large  cities,  which  threatened 
a  famine,  and  immense  multitudes  of  both  sexes  were 
patroling  the  streets  with  the  cries  of  bread!  bread! 
La  Fayette  did  all  in  his  power  to  preserve  tranquillity, 
and  protect  the  persons  and  property  of  the  citizens. 
The  assembly  also  exerted  themselves  to  calm  the  pub 
lic  mind,  and  to  maintain  the  public  peace;  they  also 
steadily  advanced  forward  in  the  great  objects  of  the 
revolution,  and  endeavoured  to  act  out  the  principles 
they  had  already  recognised.  They  passed  a  decree 
for  the  security  of  persons  and  property,  and  enjoining 
the  payment  of  taxes  as  usual;  they  also  abolished  the 
most  odious  features  of  the  feudal  system,  which  was 
followed  by  the  suppression  of  tithes;  and  they  declared 
that  henceforth  all  distinctions  political  and  personal 
should  cease,  and  that  France  should  be  one  nation,  one 
family,  governed  by  the  same  laws,  and  that  all  other 
titles  should  be  merged  in  that  of  French  Citizen.  The 
constitution  of  '90,  divided  France  into  eighty-three  de 
partments,  abolished  the  feudal  system,  and  lettres  dc 
cachet,  fixed  the  qualifications  of  electors,  provided  that 
the  representatives  were  to  form  but  one  chamber,  and 
rendered  the  sale  of  offices  criminal,  annihilated  all 
orders  and  distinctions,  granted  to  the  king  his  veto  on 
all  acts  of  the  assembly,  and  established  triennial  le 
gislatures. 

In  all  these  important  measures,  calculated  to  give  to 
man  his  dignity,  his  rights,  his  liberty,  and  to  render  a 
nation  free,  powerful,  prosperous  and  happy,  La  Fay 
ette  look  an  active  and  decided  part.  If  these  meas 
ures  did  not  produce  the  happy  results  intended,  let  it 
not  be  considered  as  an  impeachment  of  the  great  prin 
ciples  on  which  they  were  founded,  or  of  the  patriotic 
motives  of  their  authors.  The  leaders  in  the  first  or 
constituent  assembly,  La  Fayette,  Mirabeau,  Brissot, 
&c.  were  distinguished  men,  and  their  patriotic  conduct, 
although  not  successful  to  the  extent,  they  had  reason  to 
expect,  is,  nevertheless,  the  source  of  most  of  the  politi 
cal  advantages  which  France  now  enjoys.  And  there 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE. 

is  reason  to  believe,  that  neither  th'e  imperial  despotism 
of  Napoleon,  or  the  re-establishment  of  the  throne  and 
dynasty  of  the  Bourbons,  nor  all  the  violence  and  disor 
ders  of  the  revolution,  can  extinguish  the  light  which 
these  illustrious  men  contributed  to  disseminate.  The 
seeds  of  liberty,  sown  in  the  early  stages  of  the  revolu 
tion,  although  at  first  producing  a  growth  too  rank  and 
luxuriant  to  ripen  to  maturity,  and  afterward  for  a  long 
period,  choked  by  thorns,  nevertheless  can  hardly  fail,  in 
due  time,  of  producing  their  proper  fruits.  But  however 
this  may  be,  it  will  be  in  vain  for  the  minions  of  royalty 
to  impeach  the  motives  and  integrity  of  those  distin 
guished  patriots,  or  to  sully  the  lustre  of  their  well- 
earned  fame.  The  fidelity  of  history  will  do  them 
justice,  and  enrol  their  names  among  the  first  patriots 
and  benefactors  of  their  country. 

The  situation  of  La  Fayette  as  commander  of  the 
National  Guards,  was  one  of  peculiar  difficulty  and 
delicacy,  as  it  brought  him  into  constant  contact  with 
the  court  and  the  throne.  On  the  5th  of  October,  1790, 
a  vast  multitude,  principally  women,  appeared  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  crying  out  bread!  bread!  Being  joined 
by  a  company  of  the  volunteers  of  the  Bastile,  they  set 
out  for  Versailles,  the  residence  of  the  royal  family.- 
From  the  contagion  of  example,  the  National  Guards 
insisted  on  proceeding  hither  likewise;  and  La  Fayette 
believing  it  difficult  to  restrain  them,  and  also  that  the 
guards  under  his  direction  might  prevent  the  excesses  of 
the  multitude,  thought  it  advisable  to  let  them  proceed; 
and  having  obtained  the  sanction  of  the  municipal  au-: 
thnrity,  he  led  the  guards  to  Versailles,  where  he  arri 
ved  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  He  had  been  on  horse 
back  from  before  day  light  in  the  morning,  and  made 
incredible  exertions  to  calm  the  guards  and  repress  vio 
lence.  "The  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,"  says  Madame 
de  Stael,  "entered  the  Chateau,  and  passing  through  the 
apartment  where  we  were,  went  to  the  king.  We  all 
pressed  around  him  as  if  he  was  master  of  events,  and 
yet  the  popular  party  was  already  more  powerful  than 
its  chief,  and  principles  were  yielding  to  factions, or  rath- 
<**,  were  beginning  to  serve  only  as  their  pretext.  M.  de 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  521 

La  Fayette's  manner  was  perfectly  calm;  nobody  ever 
saw  it  otherwise ;  but  his  delicacy  suffered  from  the  part 
he  was  to  act.  He  asked  for  the  interior  posts  of  the 
Chateau  in  order  that  he  might  ensure  their  safety,  but 
only  the  outer  posts  were  granted  to  him."  This  refu 
sal  was  not  from  want  of  confidence  in  La  Fayette,  but 
because  by  the  etiquette  of  the  court,  the  immediate 
defence  of  the  royal  family  could  be  intrusted  to  none 
but  the  guards  of  the  royal  household.  La  Fayette 
therefore  held  himself  responsible  for  the  post  committed 
to  him  and  the  national  guards.  The  king  and  queen 
retired  to  rest  between  two  and  three  o'clock ;  and  about 
four,  a  portion  of  the  populace  found  their  way  into  the 
interior  of  the  palace  through  an  obscure  passage,  which 
had  been  overlooked,  and  which  was  not  in  that  part  of 
the  Chateau  entrusted  to  La  Fayette.  They  were  evi 
dently  led  by  persons  acquainted  with  the  secret  ave 
nues,  and  soon  made  their  way  to  the  queen's  chamber; 
two  of  her  guards  were  instantly  cut  down,  and  she  nar 
rowly  escaped,  almost  naked.  La  Fayette  rushed  in 
at  this  instant,  at  the  head  of  the  National  Guards,  and 
rescued  the  Swiss  Guards  from  popular  violence,  and 
saved  the  royal  family,  which  came  near  being  sacrifi 
ced  to  the  etiquette  of  the  court. 

At  dawn  of  day,  an  immense  multitude  surrounded 
the  palace,  and  filled  the  vast  space  called,  from  the 
rich  materials  of  which  it  is  constructed,  the  court  of 
marble.  In  loud  and  angry  vociferations  they  called  oil 
the  king  to  accompany  them  to  Paris,  and  on  the  queen 
to  present  herself  at  the  balcony.  The  king,  after  a 
short  consultation  with  his  ministers,  concluded  to  set 
out  for  the  capital.  La  Fayette  apprehending  that  it 
would  be  unsafe  for  the  queen  to  go,  knowing  the  vio 
lence  of  the  populace  towards  her,  went  and  asked  her 
if  she  intended  to  accompany  the  king  to  Paris.  "Yes,'1 
she  replied,  "although  I  am  sensible  of  the  danger." 
"Are  you  positively  determined?"  "Yes  Sir."  "Con 
descend  then,"  said  La  Fayette,  "to  go  out  on  the  bal 
cony,  and  suffer  me  to  attend  you."  "Without  the  king?" 
she  hesitatingly  replied — "have  you  heard  the  threats?" 
"Yes,  Madame,  I  have,  but  dare  to  trust  me."  He  con* 


522  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

ducted  her  to  the  balcony ;  it  was  a  moment  of  the  most, 
awful  and  delicate  responsibility;  the  agitations,  cries, 
and  shouts  of  the  vast  multitude,  like  the  sound  of  mighty 
waters,  prevented  his  voice  from  being  heard;  but  not 
on  this  or  any  other  occasion  did  his  presence  of  mind 
fail  him ;  he  simply,  with  that  ease  and  grace  which  dis 
tinguished  the  old  court  of  France,  kissed  her  hand,  in 
view  of  the  multitude.  This  unexpected  event  was 
viewed  for  a  moment  with  silent  astonishment  by  the 
populace,  but  soon  the  air  resounded  with  the  cries  of, 
"long  live  the  queen!  long  live  the  general,"  from  that 
same  fickle  populace,  who,  a  few  hours  before,  had  em- 
brued  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  guards  who  de 
fended  this  same  queen.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that 
the  guards  first  placed  the  tri-coloured  cockade  in  their 
hats,  and  supplicated  for  mercy  in  behalf  of  the  king. 
The  popular  rage  for  a  time  seemed  to  subside,  but  was 
soon  revived  by  the  cry  of  "to  Paris,  to  Paris!"  The  king 
having  thought  it  prudent  to  comply  with  the  demands 
of  the  populace,  accompanied  by  a  deputation  of  two 
hundred  of  the  assembly  and  the  National  Guards,  set 
out  for  Paris.  He  was  preceded  by  an  executioner,  be 
tween  two  wretches,  each  with  a  bloody  head  suspended 
upon  a  pike,  and  followed  by  an  immense  multitude. 
La  Fayette  could  not  prevent  this  indignity  being  offered 
the  king,  but  succeeded  in  preventing  much  violence  and 
bloodshed. 

The  discontents  of  the  nobility  and  clergy  broke  out 
into  a  civil  war  in  La  Vendee,  and  faction  raged  in  the 
capital.  On  the  20th  June,  '91,  the  Royal  Family  fled 
from  the  capital  with  the  intention  of  leaving  the  king 
dom,  and  proceeded  to  Varennes,  where  they  were  dis 
covered  and  conducted  back  to  Paris.  Conducted  by 
the  citizens  of  Varennes,  and  surrounded  by  an  immense 
body  of  the  National  Guards,  the  royal  family  passed 
along  the  streets  and  squares  amidst  half  a  million  of 
spectators:  no  murmurs  or  reproaches  were  heard,  nor 
a  solitary  voice  greeted  the  royal  ear  with  the  expres 
sion  of  joy;  not  a  hand  was  uplifted  nor  a  head  uncov- 
covered  to  honour  the  sovereign,  but  a  sullen  silence 
prevailed. 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  523 

From  the  increasing  strength  of  the  Jacobin  faction, 
the  situation  of  La  Fayette  became  every  day  more 
difficult  and  critical ;  he  was  placed  between  Scylla  and 
Charibdis;  the  violent  leaders  on  the  one  hand  tending 
to  disorder  and  anarchy,  and  the  king  and  old  aristoc 
racy  on  the  other.  But  by  a  steady  adherence  to  prin 
ciple  he  preserved  his  consistency  and  honour  in  the 
most  difficult  circumstances.  As  a  member  of  the  as 
sembly  he  supported  all  rational  plans  of  reform, in  ma 
turing  and  perfecting  the  revolution,  and  opposed  all 
violent  measures.  On  the  20th  of  June,  179r,  he  s<» 
conded  a  motion  for  the  abolition  of  all  titles  of  nobility. 
From  this  time  he  renounced  nis  own  title  of  Marquis, 
and  has  never  since  resumed  it  himself,  although  some 
times  so  called  by  others.  He  used  all  his  influence  to 
complete  the  constitution,  which  it  was  decided  should 
be  received  and  adopted -in  the  assembly  and  the  nation, 
in  the  most  imposing  and  solemn  manner,  and  Cor  which 
purpose  the  14th  of  July,  1790  the  anniversary  of  the 
destruction  of  the  Bastile,  was  selected  as  an  appropri 
ate  occasion.  The  labour  of  from  one  to  two  hundred 
thousand  persons  of  all  conditions  and  sexes,  dukes, 
duchesses,  bishops,  deputies,  butchers,  porters,  &r,.  in  a 
few  weeks  raised  an  amphitheatre  of  earth  four  miles  in 
circumference,  in  the  area  behind  the  military  school, 
called  the  Champ  de  Mars,  from  the  champus  Martius 
of  the  Romans.  Seats  rising  above  each  other  were 
formed  round  the  sides  for  the  people,  and  in  the  centre 
was  erected  the  throne  and  the  altar.  The  king,  officers 
of  the  government,  the  deputies  of  the  national  assem* 
bly,  a  deputation  of  military  from  each  department,  and 
a  concourse  of  citizens  amounting  in  all  to  more  than 
four  hundred  thousand,  were  collected  in  the  grand  am 
phitheatre,  which  gave  a  magnificence  and  sublimity  to 
the  national  festival.  Mass  having  been  said,  La  Fay 
ette,  who  commanded  tlae  National  Guards  and  the 
military,  approached  the  altar,  and  in  the  presence  of 
this  vast  concourse  swore  to  the  constitution  in  behalf  of 
the  natioo.  It  was  an  awful  situation ;  every  eye  of  this 
vast  assemblage  was  directed  towards  him,  and  every 
haad  raised  to  join  with  him  in  the^oath.  The  world  has 

r  S3 


524  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

never  witnesed  so  magnificent  and  solemn  a  ceremony, 
or  perhaps  an  individual  voluntarily  raised  10  s  ^  exalted 
and  conspicuous  a  situation.  lie  had  the  command  of 
six  millions  of  men,  directed  this  august  national  cere- 
monv,  and  was  the  organ  of  the  nation  itself.  After  La 
Fayette,the  members  of  the  assembly  swore  to  the  con 
stitution. 

On  the  13th  September,  Louis  informed  the  assembly 
that  he  had  given  his  sanction  to  the  constitution,  which 
was  solemnly  proclaimed  throughout  the  kingdom;  and 
on  the  30th  of  the  same  month  the  president  proclaim 
ed, — "That  having  concluded  the  object  for  which  they 
had  convened,  the.  national  assembly  declares  its  powers 
to  be  at  an  end,  and  that  it  will  set  no  Ion  :er."  Thus, 
after  a  session  of  two  years,  terminated  the  labours  of 
thi-  first,  or  constituent  assembly;  a  body  of  m»-n  as  dis 
tinguished  for  talents  and  patriotism  as  any  other  over 
convened  ;  and  if  we  except  the  American  congress  of 
'76,  perhaps  the  labours  and  discussions  of  no  other, 
were  ever  more  important.  Soon  after  La  Favette. 
having  completed  the  organization  of  the  National 
Guards,  resigned,  and  retired  to  his  estate  '!  hn  second 
national  assembly,  commenced  by  taking  the  oaih  to 
support  the  constitution.  Alarmed  for  their  security, 
the  nobility  and  clergy  fled  from  the  kingdom;  an-1  the 
princes  of  the  blood  having  repaired  to  Coblentz.  that 
place  became  a  general  rendezvous  of  the  emigrants; 
and  the  Prince  of  Conde  soon  began  to  assemble  an 
army  of  malcontents. 

When  the  political  society,  first  called  the  "Friends 
of  the  People,"  and  afterward  the  "Jacobin  Club,"  hav 
ing  fallen  under  the  ii>fluence  of  Robespierre  and  Dan- 
ton,  had  become  odious  and  a  most  dangerous  engine, 
La  Favette,  with  Talleyrand,  the  Duke  de  Rochefaii- 
cault  and  Lainconrt,  the  two  Lameths  and  others,  at 
tempted  to  counteract  its  pernicious  influence,  by  the 
establishment  of  another  society,  called  "The  Club  of 
J789;"  but  they  were  afterward  commonly  called  the 
FuillanSi  from  the  convent  where  they  assembled.  This 
party  were  the  constitutionalists,  of  whom  La  Fayette 
may  be  regarded  as  the  head ;  they  continued  in  general 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  525 

to  act  with  the  Girondists,  who  were  believed  to  be 
favourable  to  a  republic,  and  were  distinguished  for  tal 
ents,  patriotism  and  virtue.  These  two  parties  united, 
formed  a  decided  majority  in  the  assembly,  and  Tor  a 
long  time  kepi  down  the  Jacobin  faction,  headed  by 
Robespierre  and  Danton. 

Whilst  the  nation  was  agitated  with  disorders  and 
factions  within,  a  storm  was  gathering  from  without, 
which  threatened  the  desolation  of  France.  The  trea 
ty  of  Pilnitz,  consummated  the  first  coalition  against 
France:  the  professed  object  of  which,  was  to  regulate 
its  internal  affairs,  and  to  re-establish  the  monarchy 
with  all  its  original  powers  and  prerogatives;  but  its 
real  object  probably  was,  had  it  been  successful,  to  have 
subjected  France  to  the  fate  of  Poland.  This  outrage 
ous  enterprise  on  the  part  of  the  allied  powers,  and  the 
insulting  demands  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  overcome 
the  dread  of  war  at  first  felt  by  the  people,  and  roused 
the  spirit  of  the  nation.  This  spirit  was  inflamed  to  the 
highest  pitch  by  a  popular  and  eloquent  address  to  the 
nation,  published  by  the  assembly,  which  immediately 
followed  the  decree  of  war.  And  the  conduct  of  the 
French  emigrants,  who  assembled  on  the  borders  of  the 
state  in  a  hostile  manner,  ready  to  invade  their  country, 
excited  the  highest  indignation  of  the  people. 

The  assembly  displayed  great  activity  in  preparing 
to  prosecute  hostilities.  Three  large  armies  took  the 
field ;  one  commanded  by  La  Fayette,  who  was  called 
from  his  voluntary  retirement  for  this  purpose,  one  by 
Marshal  Rochambeau,  and  the  other  by  Marshal  Luck- 
ner.  Their  first  operations  were  not  susccessful:  the 
three  generals  had  formed  one  plan  of  the  campaign, 
and  the  cabinet  had  formed  another,  and  the  dissensions 
between  them  soon  led  to  serious  embarrassments  and 
difficulties.  By  the  former  scheme,  La  Fayette,  was  to 
have  been  entrusted  with  the  execution  of  an  enterprise 
against  the  Low  Countries,  or  Austrian  Netherlands,  at 
the  head  of  50,000  men,  and  was  to  have  been  support 
ed  by  a  second  army  under  Rochambeau;  whilst  a  third 
was  to  have  taken  possession  of  Mentz. 


526  MAftQUIS   DE   LA    FAYETTE. 

The  expedition  against  Tournay,  and  that  against 
Mons,  both  failed  ;  from  which  cause  the  advantages  of 
the  occupation  of  Fumes  were  obliged  to  be  relinquish 
ed.  La  Fayette  with  the  main  army  proceeded  to 
Givet,  where  it  was  intended  to  make  a  general  rendez 
vous  in  the  heart  of  the  Austrian  Netherlands.  The 
failure  of  the  two  first  expeditions,  disconcerted  his 
plans  and  embarrassed  his  operations;  he  was  able 
however  to  keep  his  ground.  His  army  occupied  the 
tract  of  country  extending  from  Givet  to  Bouvines.  In 
the  month  of  June  the  French  armies  had  made  consid 
erable  progress  in  the  Netherlands;  but  The  Austrians 
a:jd  Prussians  advancing  with  a  superior  force,  they 
were  obliged  to  retreat  to  Givet  and  Valenciennes.  In 
the  mean  time  the  cabinet  was  distracted  by  conten 
tions,  which  led  to  the  resignation  of  Kocharnbeau,  and. 
finally  to  a  change  of.  the  ministry,  which  was  succeed 
ed  by  an  administration  of  the  Fuillant  party.  They 
did  not  possess  the  confidence  of  the  people  or  the  ma 
jority  of  the  assembly,  and  their  power  was  short  — 
The  dismission  of  the  old  and  the  appointment  of  the 
new  ministry,  increased  the  strength  and  boldness  of 
the  Jacobin,  or  violent  partv,  both,  in  the  assembly  and 
natron.  This,  and  other  measures  of  the  king,  together 
with  the  coalition  of  sovereigns  against  France  for  the 
avowed  object  of  restoring  Louis  to  his  prerogatives 
and  power,  had  occasioned  suspicions  that  he  secretly 
favoured  the  designs  of  the  enemies  of  France,  and  that 
if  he  could  escape,  he  would  leave  the  country  and 
throw  himself  into  their  hands.  The  conduct  of  the  al 
lies  and  of  the  king  favoured  these  suspicions,  and  en 
abled  the  leaders  of  the  violent  party  to  inflame  the 
fears  and  passions  of  the  people  to  the  highest  pitch. — 
The  violent  party  were  still  a  minority  in  the  assembly; 
but  by  their  boldness,  their  violent  measures,  and  the 
control  and  direction  they  had  acquired  over  public  opin 
ion,  they  over  awed  the  delibeiations,  and  in  a  great 
measure  dictated  to  the  assembly.  The  leaders  of  this 
party  feared  no  man  so  much  as  La  Fayette:  from  his 
known  integrity,  his  attachment  to  the  constitution,  the 
nation  and  the  king,  from  the  popularity  he  still  main- 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  .027 

tained  with  moderate  men  of  all  parties,  and  above  all 
from  his  having  the  command  of  the  army,  they  were  sen 
sible  that  they  could  never  succeed  in  their  ambitious 
plans  until  he  was  out  of  the  way;  they  were  determin 
ed  therefore  to  destroy  him.  He  was  denounced  in  the 
assembly  and  the  papers  as  having  engaged  in  a  con 
spiracy  with  the  kiug  against  the  nation.  But  neither 
the  personal  danger  to  which  he  perceived  himself  ex 
posed,  nor  the  gathering  storm  whirh  threatened  to 
burst  on  his  country,  shook  his  firmness  in  the  least,  or 
deterred  him  from  making  a  bold  and  resolute  effort,  to 
save  the  constitution,  the  king  and  his  country  from  all 
the  evils  of  anarchy  and  civil  war.  Accordingly,  on 
the  16th  of  June,  he  addressed  to  the  national  assembly, 
a  long  letter,  in  which  he  openly  denounced  the  Jacobin 
faction  as  the  authors  of  all  the  mischiefs  which  afflict 
ed  the  nation,  and  conjured  the  assembly  to  crush  the 
factions  and  save  the  nation.  This  letter  unfolded  the 
situation  and  sentiments  of  La  Fayette  so  fully  at  this 
conjuncture,  that  it  ought  not  to  be  omitted  in  a  memoir 

of  his  life: — 

At  the  entrenched  camp  of     ) 
Maubege,  IMh  June,  1792.   \ 

"Gentlemen, 

"At  the  moment,  perhaps  too  long  deferred,  in  which  I  am 
about  to  call  your  attention  to  the  highest  public  interests,  and  to  point  ' 
out  among  our  dangers,  the  conduct  of  a  ministry,  whom  I  have  foi'  a 
long  time  censured  in-my  correspondence,  I  learn  that,  unmasked  in  con- 
3equence  of  its  own  divisions,  it  has  fallen  a  sacrifice  to  its  own  intrigues. 
[This  was  the  Brissotin  ministry.]  Jt  is  not  enough,  however,  that  this 
branch  of  the  government  has  been  delivered  from  its  disastrous  influence. 
The  public  welfare  is  in  peril — The  fate  of  France  depends  principally 
on  its  representatives — The  nation  expects  from  them  its  security.  But 
in  giving  them  a  constitution,  France  has  prescribed  to  them  the  only  means 
by  which  she  can  be  saved. 

"Persuaded,  gentlemen,  that  as  the  rights  of  man  are  the  law  of  every* 
constituent  assembly,  a  constitution  ought  to  be  the  law  of  the  legislators, 
which  that  constitu'ion  shall  have  established.  It  is  to  you  that  I  ought 
to  denounce  the  too  f  o^verful  efforts  which  are  making,  to  induce  you  to 
depart  from  that  course  which  you  have  promised  to  pursue. 

"Nothing  shall  deter  me  from  the  exercise  of  this  right  of  a  freeman,  to 
fulfil  this  duty  of a  citizen ;  neither  the  momentary  errors  of  opinion;  for 
what  are  opinions  when  they  depart  from  principles?  nor  my  respect  for 
the  representatives  of  the  people ;  for  I  respect  still  more  the  people  whose 
sovereign  will  it  is  to  have  a  constitution :  nor  the  benevolence  and  kind 
ness  which  you  have  constantly  evinced  for  myself;  for  I  would  preserve 
that  as  I  obtained  it,  by  an  inflexible  love  of  liberty, 


528  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYfcTTE. 

"Your  situation  is  difficult — France  is  menaced  from  without,  and 
agitated  within.  Whilst  foreign  powers  announce  the  intolerable  (inad 
missible)  project  of  attacking  our  national  sovereignty,  and  avow  it  as  a 
principle!  at  the  same  time  the  enemies  of  France,  its  interior  enemies, 
intoxicated  with  fanaticism  and  pride,  entertain  chimerical  hopes,  and 
annoy  us  with  their  insolent  malevolence.  You  ought,  gentlemen,  <o 
repress  them;  and  you  will  have  the  power  so  to  do,  only  when  you  snail 
become  constitutional  and  ju&t.  You  wisji  it,  no  doubt;  bin  cast  your 
eyes  upon  all  that  passes  within  your  own  body  and  around  you.  Can 
you  dissemble  even  to  yourselves,  that  a  faction,  (and  to  avoid  all  vague 
denunciations)  the  jacobin  faction^  have  caused  all  these  disorders?  It 
is  that  which  I  boldly  accuse — organized  like  a  separate  empire  in  the  me 
tropolis,  and  its  affiliated  societies,  blindly  directed  by  some  ambitious 
leaders,  this  sect  forms  a  corporation  entirely  distinct  in  the  mid*t  of  the 
French  people,  whose  powers  it  usurps,  by  tyrannizing  over  its  representa 
tives  and  constituted  authorities. 

"It  is  in  that  body,  in  its  public  meeting,  the  love  of  the  laws  is  de 
nounced  as  aristocracy,  and  their  breach  as  patriotism.  There  the  assas 
sins  of  Dessilles  receive  their  triumphs,  the  crimes  of  Jourdaii  find  pane 
gyrists.  There  the  recital  of  the  massacre  which  has  stained  the  city  of 
Mctz,  has  also  been  received  with  infernal  acclamations!  Have  they  be- 
co.ne  sacred  because  the  emperor  Leopold  has  pronounced  their  name? 
And  because  it  is  our  highest  duty  to  combat  the  foreigner*  who  mingle  in 
our  domestic  quarrels,  are  we  at  liberty  to  refrain  from  delivering  our 
country  from  domestic  tyranny? 

"Of  what  importance  is  it,  as  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  duty,  that  stran 
gers  have  their  projects,  and  their  connivance  and  concert  with  our  inter 
nal  foes?  It  is  I,  who  denounce  to  you  this  sect  (the  jacobins;)  1,  who, 
without  speaking  of  my  past  life,  can  reply  to  those  who  suspect  my  mo 
tives — "Approach,  in  this  moment  of  awful  crisis,  when  the  character  of 
each  man  must  be  known,  and  see  which  of  us,  more  inflexible  in  his  prin 
ciples,  more  obstinate  in  his  resistance,  will  more  courageously  overcome 
those  obstacles,  and  those  dangers,  which  traitors  «'o  their  country  conceal, 
and  which  true  citizens  know  how  to  appreciate,  and  to  brave  for  her." 

"And  how  could  I  delay  longer  to  fulfil  this  duty,  whilst  every  succes 
sive  day  weakens  still  more  the  constituted  authorities,,  substitutes  the 
spirit  of  party  for  the  will  of  the  people;  whilst  the  audacity  of  the 
agitators,  [the  disorganizes]  imposes  silence  on  peaceable  citizens,  throws 
into  retirement  useful  men,  and  whilst  devotion  to  the  sect  or  party  stands 
in  the  place  of  public  bnd  private  virtues,  which,  in  a  free  country,  ought 
to  be  the  austere  [severe,  or  strict]  and  only  means  of  attaining  to  public 
office. 

"It  is,  after  having  opposed  to  all  the  obstacles,  and  to  all  the  snares, 
which  were  laid  for  me,  the  courageous  and  persevering  patriotism  of  an 
army,  sacrificed  perhaps  to  conspiracies  against  its  commander,  [La  Fay- 
ette  was  the  commander]  that  I  now  opj>ose  to  this  faction  the  correspon 
dence  of  a  ministry,  worthy  representative  of  its  club — a  correspondence, 
the  calculations  of  which  are  false,  its  promises  vain  and  illusory — its  in 
formation  deceitful  or  frivolous — its  advice  perfidious  or  contradictory — 
correspondence,  in  which  after  pressing  me  to  advance  without  precaution 
—to  attack  without  mean*— they  finally  began  to  tell  me  that  resistance 


MARQtTIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE*  529 

was  impossible  ,  when  I  indignantly  repelled  the  c  wardly  and  base  asser 
tion.  What  a  remarkable  conformity  of  language,  gentlemen,  between 
the  factions  whom  the  aristocracy  avow,  and  those  who  usurp  the  name  of 
patriots!  They  both  wish  to  overthrow  our  laws,  rejoice  in  our  disor 
ders,  array  themselves  against  the  constituted  authorities,  detest  the  nation 
al  guards  (the  militia) — preach  insubordination  to  the  army — sow,  at  one 
moment,  distrust,  at  another,  discouragement. 

"As  to  myself,  gentlemen,  who  embraced  the  American  cause  at  the 
moment  when  its  ambassadors  declared  to  me  that  it  was  perilous  or  despe 
rate — who  from  that  moment  have  devoted  my  life  to  a  persevering  de 
fence  of  liberty  and  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people — who,  on  the  }  4th 
of  July,  1789,  (after  the  taking  of  the  Bastile,)  in  presenting  to  my 
country  a  declaration  of  rights  dared  to  say,  "that  in  order  that  a  nation 
should  be  free,  it  is  only  necessary  that  it  should  will  so  to  be,"  I  come, 
this  day,  fall  of  confidence  in  the  justice  of  our  cause — of  contempt,  for 
the  cowards  who  desert  it,  and  of  indignation  against  the  traitors  who 
would  sully  or  stain  it  with  crimes;  I  am  ready  to  declare  that  the  French 
nation,  if  it  is  not  the  rilest  in  the  universe,  can  and  ought  to  resist  the 
conspiracy  of  kings  who  have  coalesced  against  it! 

"It  is  not  in  the  midst  of  my  brave  army  that  timid  counsels  should  be 
permitted — Patriotism, discipline, patience,  mutual  confidence,  all  the  mili 
tary  and  civil  virtues  I  find  here.  Here  the  principles  of  liberty  and 
equality  are  cherished,  the  laws  respected,  property  held  sacred.  Here 
ealumnies  and  factions  are  unknown.  And  when  I  reflect  that  France 
has  many  millions  who  can  become  such  soldiers,  I  ask  myself,  to  what  a 
degree  of  debasement  must  such  an  immense  people  be  reduced,  stronger 
in  its  natural  resources  than  in  its  artificial  defences,  opposing  to  a  mon 
strous  and  discordant  confederation  simple  and  united  counsels  and  com 
binations,  that  tlie  cowardly,  degrading  idea  of  sacrificing  its  sovereignty, 
of  permitting  any  discussion  as  to  its  liberties,  of  committing  to  negotia 
tion  its  rights,  could  be  considered  among  the  possibilities  of  a  rapidly 
advancing  futurity! 

"But,  in  order  that  we,  soldiers  of  liberty,  should  combat  for  her  with 
efficacy,  or  die  for  her  with  any  fruit  or  advantage,  it  is  necessary  that 
the  number  of  the  defenders  of  the  country  should  be  promptly  made 
in  some  degree  proportionate  to  that  of  our  opponents;  that  the  supplies 
of  all  descriptions  should  be  increased  so  as  to  facilitate  our  movements; 
that  the  comfort  and  conveniences  of  the  troops,  their  clothes  and  arms, 
their  pay,  the  accommodations  for  the  sick,  should  no  longer  be  subject  to 
fatal  delays,  or  to  a  miserable  and  misplaced  economy,  which  defeats  its 
very  end. 

"ft  is  above'ott,  necessary  that  the  citizens  rallied  round  their  constitu 
tion,  should  be  assured  that  the  rights  which  that  constitution  guarantees 
shall  be  respected  with  a  religious  fidelity;  which  will  of  itself  cause 
more  despair  to  our  enemies  than  any  other  measure. 

"Do  not  repel  this  desire — this  ardent  wish.  It  is  that  of  all  the  sin 
cere  friends  of  your  legitimate  authority;  assured  that  no  unjust  conse 
quences  or  effect  can  flow  from  apure  principle— --that  no  tyrannical  meas 
ure  can  save  a  cause,  which  owes  its  force,  aye,  and  its  glory,  to  the  sa 
cred  principles  of  liberty  and  equality.  Let  criminal  jurisprudence  resume 
ite  constituthnftl  power.  Let  civil  equality — let  religious  freedom  enjoy 


530  MAR^IS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 


the  application  of  their  true  principles.  In  fine,  let  the  reign  of  ihe  clubs 
be  annihilated  by  you;  let  them  give  place  to  the  laws—  their  usurpations 
to  the  firm  and  independent  exercise  of  the  powers  of  the  constituted  au 
thorities—  their  disorganizing  maxims  to  the  true  principles  of  liberty— 
Iheir  delirious  fury  to  the  calm  and  constant  courage  of  a  nation  which 
knows  its  rights,  and  is  ready  to  defend  them  —  in  fine,  their  sectarian  com 
binations  to  the  true  interests  of  the  country,  of  the  nation,  which  in  a 
moment  of  danger  ought  to  unite  aW,  except  those  to  whom  its  subjection 
and  ruin  are  the  objects  of  atrocious  pleasure  and  infamous  speculation. 

LA  FAYETTE." 

The  sentiments  contained  in  this  letter,  are  bold,  no 
ble,  and  patriotic,  worthy  of  the  disciple  of  Washington, 
and  of  the  hero  and  patriot  of  the  American  revolution. 
But  the  efforts  ofLaFayette  were  in  vain;  the  audacity 
and  violence  of  the  jacobin  faction  continued  to  increase; 
the  assembly  had  not  the  courage  or  the  power  to  repress 
them,  and  affairs  rapidly  approached  a  crisis.  On  the 
20th  of  June,  a  vast  and  promiscuous  multitude,  headed 
by  Santerre,  armed  with  pikes  and  proceeded  with  two 
cannon,  advanced  to  the  palace,  and  overcoming  every 
obstacle,  found  their  way  to  the  presence  of  the  king 
and  royal  family.  They  read  a  petition  to  his  ma 
jesty,  praying  for  the  dismissal  of  the  new  ministry  and 
the  relinquishment  of  his  veto,  by  means  of  which  he 
had  suspended  several  decrees.  Louis  manifested 
'  great  courage  and  firmness,  and  after  an  animated  ad 
dress  from  Vergniaux,  a  leading  member  of  the  assem 
bly,  and  a  few  words  from  Petion,  mayor  of  Paris,  the 
populace  withdrew,  without  committing  any  violence; 
but  not  until  they  had  placed  the  red  cap  of  liberty  on 
the  head  of  the  king,  to  see  how  the  symbol  of  free 
dom,  would  become  the  brow  of  royalty. 

This  and  other  outrages,  together  with  the  repeated 
denunciations  against  himself,  induced  La  Fayette  to 
confront  his  accusers,  and  make  one  more  still  bolder 
effort,  to  rouse  the  assembly  to  a  sense  of  danger,  and 
inspire  them  with  that  courage  and  firmness,  demanded 
by  the  crisis.  Leaving  the  head-quarters  of  the  army, 
lie  repaired  to  Paris,  and  fearlessly  presented  himsell 
before  the  bar  of  the  national  assembly,  confronted  his 
enemies,  and  demanded  to  be  jriecl.  Being  acquitted 
by  a  great  majority,  "he  entreated  the  assembly  to  come 


BE    LA    FAYETTE.  531 

4orward  and  save  the  country,  from  ruin  by  dissolving 
the  factious  clubs  and  inflicting  exemplary  punishment 
on  the  authors  of  the  late  disgraceful  riots."  His 
friends  in  the  assembly  were  numerous,  and  undoubt 
edly  a  majority  of  that  body  condemned  the  violent  pro 
ceedings  against  which  lie  raised  his  voice;  but  they 
had  not  courage  to  act;  the  assembly  were  overawed 
and  enslaved  by  the  audacity  and  tyranny  of  desperate 
and  unprincipled  demagogues  who  controlled  the  fury 
of  the  populace.  The  presence  of  La  Fayette,  revived 
the  recollections  of  the  national  gaurds  of  Paris,  of  his 
unbounded  popularity  when  he  was  placed  at  their  head; 
they  assembled  before  the  hotel  where  he  lodged,  plant 
ed  the  tree  of  liberty  before  the  door,  decorated  it  with 
ensigns  and  ribbons,  and  greeted  him  with  enthusiastic 
exclamations  of  La  Fayette  and  the  constitution!  La 
Fayette  and  liberty,  viva  4e  La  Fayette! 

Finding,  that  all  his  efforts  to  preserve  tranquillity, 
repress  the  factions,  and  preserve  the  constitution  were 
unavailing,  he  left  the  capital  and  returned  to  the  army 
on  the  frontiers.  On  retiring  he  addressed  the  following 
note  to  the  assembly,  containing  the  most  noble  and 
patriotic  sentiments,  expressed  in  dignified  language. 

^Gentlemen — In  returning  to  the  post  where  brave  soldiers  are  ready 
to  die  for  the  constitution,  but  ought  not  and  will  not  lavish  their  blood 
except  for  that,  I  go  with  great  and  deep  regret  in  not  being  able  to  inform 
the  army,  that  the  national  assembly  have  yet  deigned  to  come  to  any  de 
termination  on  my  petition.  [Alluding  to  the  request  in  his  letter  to  the 
assembly  a  short  time  before  to  suppress  the  Jacobin  clubs.]  The  voice 
of  all  the  good  citizens  of  the  kingdom,  which  some  factious  clamours 
strive  to  stifle,  daily  calls  to  the  elected  representatives  of  the  people,  that 
while  there  exists  near  them  a  sect  who  fetter  all  the  authorities,  and  men 
ace  their  independence;  and  who,  after  provoking  war,  are  endeavouring, 
by  changing  the  nature  of  our  cause,  to  make  it  impossible  to  defend  it; 
that  while  there  is  cause  to  blush  at  the  impunity  of  an  act  <of  treason 
against  the  nation,  which  has  raised  just  and  great  alarms  in  the  minds  of 
all  the  French,  and  universal  indignation;  our  liberty,  laws,  and  honour 
are  in  danger.  Truths  like  tfoese,  free  and  generous  souls  are  not  afraid 
of  speaking.  Hostile  to  the  factions  of  every  kind,  indignant  at  cowards 
that  can  sink  so  low  as  to  look  for  foreign  interposition,  and  impressed 
with  the  principle,  which  I  glory  in  being  the  first  to  declare  to  France, 
that  all  illegal  power  is  oppression,  against  which  resistance  becomes  a 
duty,  we  are  anxious  to  make  known  our  fears  to  the  legislative  body. — 
We  hope  that  the  prudence  of  the  representatives  of  the  people  will  re- 

T  3 


532  MARQUIS    Dfc  LA    FAYETOE. 

lieve  our  minds  of  them.  As  for  me,  gentlemen,  who  will  never  alter  my 
principles,  sentiments,  or  language,  I  thought  that  the  national  assembly, 
considering  the  urgency  and  danger  of  circumstances,  would  permit  rare 
to  add  my  regrets  and  wishes  to  my  profound  respect." 

The  boldness,  and  intrepidity  of  the  conduct  of  La 
Fayette  on  this  occasion,  when  he  was  openly  denoun 
ced  by  the  violent  leaders,  and  known  to  be  the  object 
of  the  hatred  and  vengeance  of  ail  the  factious  dema 
gogues,  could  only  have  been  inspired  by  a  conviction 
that  an  awful  crisis  was  impending,  and  a  consciousness 
of  the  justness  of  his  cause  and  the  integrity  and  patri 
otism  of  his  motives. 

"Thrice  is  he  armed  who  ha's  h'is  quarrel  just, 
And  he  but  naked,  though  locked  up  in  steel, 
Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted/' 

Among  the  accusations  against  La  Fayette,  he  was 
charged  with  a  design  to  march  to  Paris  with  his  army, 
and  to  force  the  assembly  to  act  agreeably  to  his  wish 
es.  In  behalf  of  the  assembly,  the  minister  of  the  in 
terior  wrote  to  him  on  the  subject,  and  Geu.  La  Fayette 
in  reply  observed — "If  i  were  questioned  respecting  my 
principles,  I  should  say  that  as  a  constant  proclaimed 
and  defender  of  the  rights  of  man  and  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people,  I  have  every  where  and  always  resisted 
authorities  which  liberty  disavowed,  and  which  the  na 
tional  will  had  not  delegated;  and  that  I  have  every 
where  and  always  obeyed  those  of  which  a  free  consti 
tution  had  fixed  the  forms  and  limits.  But  I  am  question 
ed  respecting  a  fact — Did  I  propose  to  Marshal  Luckner 
to  murcb  to  Paris  with  our  armies?  To  which  1  answer 
in  four  words — it  is  not  true.'''' 

While  faction  raged  within,  the  storm  was  gathering 
without;  the  coalition  having  received  the  accession  of 
several  other  powers,  had  collected  an  army  of  80,000 
men  on  the  frontiers  of  France,  for  the  invasion  of  the 
country.  The  Duke  of  Brunswick,  who  had  been  ap 
pointed  generalissimo  of  the  combined  forces,  on  the  25th 
of  July  issued  a  manifesto,  in  which  he  declared  that 
the  object  of  the  coalition  was  to  annihilate  the  existing 
government,  liberate  the  king,  and  re-establish  the  moir 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE.  533 

archy  and  the  ancient  regime:  that  the  national  assem 
bly  should  be  answerable  with  their  heads  for  the  safety 
of  the  royal  family;  and  that  the  city  of  Paris  should 
be  held  responsible  for  all  disorders,  and  if  the  least 
violence  should  be  offered  to  any  one  of  the  royal  fam 
ily,  that  city  should  be  razed  to  the  ground,  and  the  in 
habitants  exterminated  with  the  sword.  He  also  de 
nounced  vengeance  and  military  execution  against  all 
who  should  be  found  in  arms  in  support  of  the  existing 
government,  and  in  defence  of  their  own  country.  This 
infamous  coalition,  as  weak  as  it  was  wicked,  with  the 
avowal  of  such  abominable  intention  and  objects,  con 
firmed  the  suspicions  of  the  unfortunate  monarch,  in 
flamed  the  already  exasperated  feelings  towards  him, 
and  hurried  on  his  fate,  and  that  of  France, by  strength 
ening  the  violent  party,  and  giving  them  an  ascendency. 
On  the  3d  of  August,  Petion.  at  the  head  of  the  Sec 
tions  .of  Paris,  appeared  before  the  bar  of  the  assembly, 
and  demanded  the  deposition  of  the  king;  and  numerous 
petitions  to  this  effect  were  received  from  various  quar 
ters.  Affairs  having  ripened  to  a  crisis,  on  the  night  of 
the  9th  of  August,  a  conspiracy  was  formed  by  the  lead 
ers  of  the  violent  party,  to  overthrow  the  king,  the 
monarchy,  and  the  constitution,  at  one  blow.  Danton, 
Desmoulins,Conville,  Tallien  Fabre  d'Eglantine,  Collot 
d'Herbois,  Santerre,  and  others,  met  in  the  hall  of  the 
Cordeliers.  Danton,  with  a  loud  and  furious  voice,  con 
cluded  a  vehement  speech,  in  which  he  recapitulated 
the  crimes  of  the  court,  with  the  following  appeal: — 
"Let  us  cease  to  appeal  to  the  laws  and  the  legislators, 
the  greater  part  of  them  are  nothing  better  than  the  ac 
complices  of  La  Fayette,  whom  they  have  just  absolved. 
To  absolve  that  traitor  is  to  deliver  ourselves  to  him,  to 
the  enemies  of  France,  and  to  the  sanguinary  vengeance 
of  the  coalesced  kings.  What  do  I  say!  it  is  this  very 
night  which  this  perfidious  Louis  has  selected  for  deliv 
ering  up  to  carnage  and  to  the  flames  that  capital  he 
wishes  once  more  to  leave — To  arms! — to  arms!"  This 
cry  in  an  instant  was  repeated  from  a  thousand  mouths; 
it  spread  like  lightning  in  every  direction ;  the  bells  were 
rung,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  dreadful  tocsin  of  alarm 


534  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

resounded  through   the  capital,  filling  the   inhabitants 
with  fear,  and  carrying  terror  and  dismay  to  every  apart 
ment  of  the  Thuilleries.   More  than  liO.OUO  men,  headed 
by  Westermann,  armed  in  various  ways,  with  forty  pie 
ces  of  cannon,  made  a  furious  assault  oi>  the  castle  of  the 
Thuilleries.     The   Swiss   Guards  made  a  resolute  and 
obstinate  defence,  but  were  overpowered  by   numbers, 
nnd  nearly  all  massacred.     Before  the  attack,  the  king 
and  royal  family  fled  for  refuge  to  the  national  assembly, 
where  they  remained  for  fourteen  hours,  in  a  small  box 
appropriated  to  the  reporter  of  a  newspaper;  he  was 
finally  conducted,  under  a  strong  escort,  to  the  Temple. 
The  king  being  thus  deposed,  in  fact,  and  being  overawed 
by  the  violent  leaders,  the  assembly  passed  a  seriuos  of 
acts  declaring  the  executive  power  suspended,  and  the 
authority  vested  in  the  king  by  the  constitution,  revoked ; 
and  inviting  the  people  to  meet  in  primary  assemblies, 
and  elect  members  to  a  national  convention.     A  provis 
ional  executive  council  was  established,  and  a  decree  of 
accusation  issued  against  several  of  the  late   ministers. 
JNews  of  these  violent  proceedings  reached  La  Fay- 
ette,  at  his  head-quarters,  at  Sedan, on  the  10th  instant. 
He  did  not,  for  a  moment,  hesitate  how  to  act :  as  he  had 
been  the  first  to  oppose  the  despotism  of  the  court,  he 
was  also  the  first  to  oppose  the  faction  and   tyranny  of 
unprincipled  demagogues,  who  trampled  under  foot  the 
constituion  they  had  sworn  to  support.     He  immediately 
addressed  to  the  army,  under  his  command,  the  follow 
ing  letter: — 

"Citizen  Soldiers, 

"It is  no  longer  time  to  conceal  from  you  what  is  going  forward:  the 
constitution  you  swore  to  maintain  is  no  more;  a  banditti  from  Mar 
seilles,  and  a  troop  of  factious  men,  besieged  the  palace  of  the  Thuille 
ries;  the  National  and  Swiss  Guards  made  a  vigorous  resistance,  but  for 
want  of  ammunition  they  were  obliged  to  surrender. 

"General  d'Affty,  his  aids-de-camp,  and  his  whole  family,  were  mur 
dered. 

"The  king,  queen,  and  all  the  royal  family,  escaped  to  the  national  as 
sembly;  the  factious  ran  thither,  holding  a  sword  in  one  hand,  and  fire  in 
the  other,  and  forced  the  legislative  body  to  supersede  the  king,  which 
was  done  for  the  sake  of  saving  his  life. 

"Citizens,  you  are  no  longer  represented;  the  national  assembly  is  in 
a  state  of  slavery ;  your  armies  are  without  leaders;  Petion  reigns;  the 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    PAYETTE.  . 

savage  Dan  ton  and  his  satellites  are  masters.  Thus,  soldiers,  it  is  your 
province  to  examine  whether  you  will  restore  the  hereditary  representatives 
to  the  throne,  or  submit  to  the  disgrace  of  having  a  Peton  for  your  king.'" 

General  Dillon,  who  commanded  the  northern  army, 
and  who    had    been  a   member   of  the  first  assembly, 
having  assembled  his  troops,  prevailed  on  them  to  take 
the  oath   of  fidelity  to   "the  nation,  the  law,  and  the 
king."     Marshal  Luckner  hesitated,  for  a  long  time,  but 
finally  declared  for  the  assembly;  and  the  other  gener 
als,    Biron,  Montesquieu,  Kellerman,  and  Custine,  sent 
in  their  adhesion,  and  bowed  to  the  new  order  of  things, 
and,  together   with   their  troops,   took    the  republican 
oaths.     The  effect  of  the  appeal  of  La  Fayette  to  his 
troops,  was,  for  a  short  time,  uncertain ;  the  soldiers  at 
first  apparently   responded   to  his  sentiments;  but   he 
soon  found  that  the   contagion   had  spread  among  the 
troops,  and  that  their  fidelity  was  no   longer  to  be  de 
pended    upon.      The    assembly,   anticipating   that   La 
Fayette  would   not  recognise  their  authority,  had  des 
patched  three  commissioners  to  arrest  him,  or  secure  the 
army,  by  inducing  the  troops  to  desert.     On  their  arri 
val  at  Sedan,  La  Fayette  ordered  them  to  be   arrested, 
and  held  as  hostages  for  the  safety  of  the  king  and  his 
family;  they  were   detained  from    the  14th  to  the  20th 
inst.     The  situation  of  La  Fayette  became  every  day 
more  critical;  the  assembly  passed  a  decree  of  accusa 
tion  against  him,  and  finding  that  he  had  lost  the  confi 
dence  of  the  army,  and  that  his  troops  were  ready  to 
desert  him,  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  seek  an  asylum  in  a 
foreign  land,  and  intended  ultimately  to  go  to  America. 

Thus  terminated  the  revolutionary  career  of  La  Fay 
ette  in  his  own  country ;  very  different  from  the  termina 
tion  of  his  exertions  in  the  glorious  struggle  for  liberty 
in  America.  Here,  although  a  foreigner,  he  enjoyed 
the  confidence  of  the  government  and  of  the  nation,  and 
the  universal  love  and  esteem  of  the  people.  There, 
after  all  his  services  and  sacrifices,  and  the  unbounded 
popularity  he  had  enjoyed,  he  was  proscribed,  and  a  re 
ward  offered  for  his  head  by  the  government,  and  the 
object  of  the  suspicion,  if  not  of  the  hatred,  of  the  peo 
ple. 


•536  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

In  the  early  stages  of  the  revolution,  his  popularity 
and  influence  were  very  great.  He  proposed  the  first 
plan  of  a  "declaration  of  rights,'  in  the  constituent  as 
sembly;  he  was  first  appointed  commander  of  the  Na 
tional  Guards  of  Paris,  and  after  the  recall  of  Necker, 
he  was  unanimously  chosen  commander  in  chief  of  the 
National  Guards  of  the  whole  kingdom,  which  he,  in  a 
great  measure,  organized,  and  instituted  the  tri-colour- 
ed  cockade.  In  this  capacity  he  presided  at  the  grand 
national  fete,  on  the  14th  of  July,  as  the  generalissimo 
of  a  greater  body  of  troops  then  had  ever  perhaps  been 
under  the  immediate  command  of  one  man,  since  the 
days  of  Xerxes. 

In  1791,  after  the  constitution  was  established,  and 
the  new  government  organized,  he  resigned  his  com 
mand  and  retired  to  his  estate.  He  declined  to  receive 
any  thing  for  his  services,  or  the  sacrifices  he  had  made. 
On  being  pressed  on  this  subject,  by  the  assembly  and 
the  municipality  of  Paris,  he  replied — "My  private  for 
tune  secures  me  from  want;  it  has  outlasted  two  rev 
olutions,  and  should  it  survive  a  third,  through  the 
complacence  of  the  people,  it  shall  belong  to  them 
alone." 

When  the  coalition  was  formed  against  France,  near 
the  close  of  the  year  '91,  he  was  called  from  retirement 
to  take  the  command  of  the  central  army;  he  was  at 
that  time  major-general,  but  soon  obtained  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-general,  and  marshal  of  France. 

If  La  Fayette  failed  in  his  attempt  to  secure  the  lib 
erties  of  his  own  country,  and  establish  a  free  govern 
ment,  founded  on  the  immutable  basis  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people,  the  delegation  of  authority,  the  represen 
tative  principal,  and  the  supremacy  of  constitutional 
law,  it  is  no  impeachment  of  his  patriotism  or  his  ca 
pacity.  He  did  not  fail  alone;  the  many  illustrious  and 
patriotic  men,  who  were  associated  with  him,  failed 
likewise.  They  succeeded,  however,  in  accomplishing 
the  revolution  as  far  as  they  proposed  to  carry  it,  but 
the  difficulty  was  in  stopping  it  from  going  farther.  In 
this  they  failed  ;  and  it  is  by  no  means  probable  that  any 
body  of  men,  not  even  Washington  and  the  American 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE  537 

Continental  Congress,  could  have  been  more  success 
ful.  The  circumstances  of  the  times  were  unexampled, 
and  events  are  not  therefore,  to  be  decided  on,  according 
to  ordinary  principles. 

The  overthrow  of  the  monarchy  and  the  constitution, 
on  the  10th  of  August,  and  the  execution  of  the  king, 
and  all  the  violent  proceedings  which  followed,  are 
more  to  be  attributed  to  the  infamous  coalition  formed 
agaist  France  than  any  other  cause.  Had  it  not  been 
for  this  unholy  interferance  of  the  "holy  alliance"  of 
that  day,  it  is  more  than  probable,  that  La  Fayette  and 
his  party  would  have  succeeded  in  preserving  the  con 
stitutional  government,  in  saving  the  king  from  the  guil 
lotine,  and  the  nation  from  all  the  horrors  of  anarchy 
and  cival  war.  La  Fayette  was  sincerely  and  ardent 
ly  devoted  to  the  constitution ;  to  popular  and  free  insti 
tutions,  and  to  regulated  liberty;  he  could  admit  of  no 
comprise  of  principle,  or  violation  of  constituted  au 
thority,  and  his  personal  integrity  as  well  as  political 
principles  required  him  to  adhere  in  the  mosts  crupu- 
lous  mauner  to  the  oath  he  had  taken,  of  fidelity  to  the 
constitution,  the  nation,  and  the  king.  And  although 
he  did  not  succeed  in  preserving  the  constitution  or  pro 
tecting  the  monarch,  he  did  what  was  more  important 
to  his  own  reputation;  he  maintained  his  integrity  and 
fidelity  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  to  the  last. 
It  was  this  fidelity  that  occasioned  his  proscription;  had 
he  yielded  in  some  degree,  to  the  times,  and  gone  along 
with  the  current  of  popular  opinion,  still  endeavouring  to 
maintain  what  control  and  direction  he  could  over  it,  he 
might  have  saved  himself  from  the  storm  which  at  that 
time  burst  upon  him,  and  possibly  his  country  from  the 
dreadful  evils  which  afterward  befell  it.  This,  how 
ever,  is  extremely  problematical;  and  at  any  rate,  it 
could  not  have  been  done,  without  compromising  both  his 
personal  integrity  and  political  principles,  and  would 
have  destroyed  that  consistency  of  character  for  which 
he  now  stands  so  conspicous. 

That  La  Fayette  and  his  party  were  correct  in  their 
views  and  objects,  the  result  has  shown  their  opinions 
of  the  jacobin  leaders  proved  to  be  well  founded*  and 


MAKQ.UIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

liad  the  counsels  of  the  party  of  which  he  was  leader 
prevailed,  France  would  not  only  have  been  saved  from 
the  anarchy  which  afterward  afflicted  her,  but  would 
have  preserved  her  liberty  and  all  the  blessings  of  free 
institutions.  Although  from  the  peculiar  and  extraordi 
nary  circumstances  under  which  he  was  required  to  act 
he  may  in  some  instances  have  misjudged  or  committed 
errors,  yet  now,  no  one,  unless  it  be  the  minions  of  roy 
alty  and  the  creatures  of  the  4holy  alliance',  can  doubt 
the  rectitude  of  his  intentions,  the  soundness  of  his  prin 
ciples,  or  that  he  was  a  sincere  friend  of  liberty  and  his 
country. 

On  the  20th  of  August,  La  Fayette,*  with  his  three 
friends, Generals  Latour  Maubourg,  Alaxandre  Lameth, 
and  Bureau  de  Puzy,  the  commandant  of  engineers,  with 
his  aids-de-camp  and  a  part  of  his  staff,  mounted  on  horse 
back  with  an  escort,  started  off,  as  if  to  reconnoitre, 
which  was  supposed  to  be  the  object  by  all  except  the 
three  first,  as  they  alone  were  in  the  secret.  They  pro 
ceeded  eight  or  ten  miles,  and  dismounted  at  an  inn, 
and  established  sentinels  to  guard  against  a  surprise 
from  the  enemy's  patroles.  Here  General  La  Fayette 
communicated  the  intelligence  from  the  capital  that  he 
had  been  declared  a  traitor  and  an  enemy  of  his  coun 
try,  a  decree  of  accusation  passed  against  him,  and  a 
price  set  upon  his  head.  He  concluded  by  saying, 
that  he  had  determined  to  quit  his  country  for  a  time, 
and  that  he  should  consider  any  man  her  enemy  who 
should  propose  to  take  up  arms  against  her.  Nothing 
could  equal  the  astonfshment  and  indignation  of  these 
young  officers;  and  notwithstanding  the  injunction,  they 
unanimously  declared  that  the  only  way  left  to  save 
their  country  and  their  general,  was  to  march  direct  to 

*The  account  of  La  Eayelte's  imprisonment  and  sufferings,  and  the  par 
ticulars  of  the  attempts  made  to  effect  his  escape,  are  taken  from  the  re 
cent  work  of  General  II.  L.  VIM,AUME  DUCOUDKAY  HOLSTUW,  who,  un 
der  the  fictitious  name  of  Peter  Feldmann,  assisted  in  the  liberation  of  La 
Fftyette  from  the  prisons  of  Olmutz.  The  accuracy  of  General  Holsteiu's 
account  of  the  attempts  made  to  effect  the  escape  of  General  La  Fayette 
has  been  questioned,  and  differs  in  many  respects  from  former  accounts. 
But  as  he  possessed  them  cans  of  information,  it  would  be  strange  that  he 
should  attach  his  name  to  a  publication  professing  the  fidelity  of  history^ 
which  bad  more  the  character  of  romance. 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  .039 

Paris,  and  disperse  and  put  down  the  Jacobin  faction. 
This  their  patriotic  and  persecuted  gen-era!  positively 
declined.  \  hey  then  insisted  on  emigrating  with  him; 
but  he  represented  to  them  the  danger  of  this,  to  them 
selves  and  families,  and  entreated  them  to  return  to  the 
camp.  He  finally  consented  that  the  two  brothers, 
Latour  and  Louis  Maubourg,  Bureau  de  Puzy,  Alexan 
der  Lameth,  Auguste  Masson,  Rene  Pillet,  and  Cadig- 
nan  might  accompany  him.  The  rest  of  the  officers, 
with  the  escort  of  150  cavalry,  returned  to  the  camp. 
The  cavalry  at  first,  however,  refused  to  return,  and  in 
sisted  on  accompanying  their  general.  Here  it  is  worthy 
of  remark,  that  La  Fayette,  persecuted  and  proscribed 
as  he  was  by  an  ungrateful  country,  did  not  attempt  to 
procure  the  desertion  of  a  single  regiment;  he  would  not 
even  permit  the  escort  that  had  accompanied  him,  to 
share  his  fortunes,  which  they  were  desirous  to  do,  but 
insisted  on  their  returning.  The  situation  of  La  Fay 
ette  at  this  time,  and  the  dreadful  reflections  which 
agitated  his  mind,  if  they  can  be  conceiv&d,  cannot  be 
described.  His  own  dnnger,  and  that  of  his  family  and 
his  estate;  the  distracted  condition  of  his  ungrateful 
country,  torn  to  pieces  by  factions,  under  the  misrule  af 
anarchists,  and  on  the  point  of  being  invaded  by  a  for 
midable  army  drawn  from  half  of  Europe,  rushed  on  his 
mind  and  filled  it  with  the  most  disagreeable  reflections. 
About  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  the  seven  fugitives  ar 
rived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Austrians'  advance 
guard,  and  were  arrested,  and  after  being  detained  some 
time,  sent  under  a  strong  escort  to  the  Austrian  head 
quarters,  and  at  length  to  Luxemburg.  Here  they  were 
recognised  by  a  crowd  of  refugees,  who  regarding  La 
Fayette  as  one  of  the  first  promoters  of  the  revolution, 
treated  him  and  his  companions  with  the  greatest  inso 
lence  and  contempt.  Being  placed  in  rigorous  confine 
ment,  they  wrote  to  the  Duke  of  Saxe  Teschenfor  pass 
ports,  which  was  answered  by  a  savage  threat  of  a  pub 
lic  execution.  The  governor  of  Luxemburg  having  receiv 
ed  orders  to  deliver  his  prisoners  into  the  hands  of  the 
king  of  Prussia,  they  were  transported  in  a  common  cart 
like  criminals,  guarded  by  a  strong  eseor*.  to  Wesel. — 

U3 


340  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

During  the  nights  \vhen  it  was  necessary  to  stop,  they 
were  confined  in  the  common  jails  of  the  country.  At 
W.esel,  after  being  insulted  by  the  populace  and  treated 
like  brutes,  they  were  put  in  irons,  and  confined  in  sep 
arate  cells  in  the  castle,  being  denied  all  intercourse 
with  each  other.  They  were  daily  told  that  "the  king 
intended  to  have  them  hanged  for  wretches  who  deserv 
ed  no  favour." 

From  the  severity  of  his  treatment,  and  his  excessive 
apprehensions  on  account  of  his  wife  and  children,  La 
Fayette  fell  sick  ;  and  whilst  recovering,  but  yet  in  a  lan 
guishing  state,  the  king  had  the  baseness  to  offer  him 
his  liberty  on  condition  that  he  would  betray  his  coun 
try;  and  the  decided  refusal  he  received,  was  followed 
by  a  more  rigorous  confinement  and  harsher  treatment, 
and  all  information  as  to  their  families  was  denied  them. 
From  this  place  they  were  transported  in  a  cart  like 
convicts  to  Magdeburg;  it  was  expected  that  this  treat 
ment  would  excite  public  scorn  and  detestation;  but 
their  tyrants  were  mistaken,  for  a  lively  sympathy  and 
interest  was  every  where  manifested  in  their  behalf. — 
Here  they  were  confined  one  year  in  a  damp  and  sub 
terraneous  dungeon;  but  were  permitted  to  remain  to 
gether.  From  Magdeburg,  with  the  exception  of  Alex 
ander  Lameth,  they  were  all  conveyed  to  Silesia,  and 
were  confined  in  an  unhealthy  and  loathsome  dungeon 
at  Neisse. 

On  making  peace  willi  France,  the  king  of  Prussia, 
fearing  that  he  might  be  required  to  give  up  his  prison 
ers,  had  them  conveyed  to  Austria,  where  they  were 
confined  more  than  f/ur  years  at  Olmutz,  about  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  miles  north  of  Vienna,  and  near  Silesia. 
Here  they  were  stripped  of  what  little  the  Prussians 
hnd  left,  and  among  the  articles  were  two  books  whose 
liberal  sentiments  did  not  accord  with  the  despotic  prin 
ciples  of  the  government,  so  that  La  Fayette  inquired, 
4  whether  they  were  seized  as  contraband."  They  were 
incarcerated  in  separate  cells,  and  informed  that  ^they 
would  never  again  see  the  light  of  the  sun  or  hear  a  hu 
man  voice;  that  their  very  names  were  to  be  annihila 
ted,  and  that  in  future  they  would  be  designated  in  all 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    PAYETTE.  54l 


despatches  of  the  government,  by  the  number  of  their 
respective  cells.  The  prison  walls  were  twelve  feet 
thick ;  the  cells  were  eight  or  ten  paces  deep,  and  six  or 
eight  wide;  the  light  was  let  in  through  an  opening  two 
feet  square,  secured  by  massive  iron  bars  transversely 
placed  ;  before  the  loop-holes  of  the  prison  was  a  broad 
ditch  filled  with  stagnant  water,  which  emitted  a  nox 
ious  effluvia,  and  beyond  were  the  outer  walls  of  the 
castle,  which  prevented  the  slightest  breeze  from  pass 
ing  to  the  grated  windows  of  these  miserable  dungeons. 
When  it  rained,  the  water  found  its  way  into  the  prison 
through  the  loop-holes  and  off  the  walls,  so  that  the 
prisoners  often  waked  in  the  morning  wet  to  the  skin, 
A  quantity  of  rotten  straw  formed  their  bed,  which, 
with  a  broken  chair  and  an  old  worm-eaten  table,  con 
stituted  the  furniture  of  each  apartment.  A  dim  lamp 
glimmered  in  each  cell  at  night,  and  very  little  light  was 
introduced  during  the  day,  even  when  the  sun  shined,  but 
when  cloudy,  which  was  very  common  in  that  wet  coun 
try,  it  was  total  darkness.  Such  was  the  situation  for 
years,  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  the  age. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Sentiments  which  his  unjust  imprisonment  produced — Exertioni  of  Washington  for  bit 
liberation — in  the  House  of  Commons—Attempt  of  Bollman  to  effect  his  escape — is 
favuuredinhis  efforts  by  Huger — They  succeed  in  effecting  his  escape— Aic  all  arrest- 
eel  and  confined  in  prison — La  Fayette  is  put  in  irons,  and  receives  the  most  severe 
treatment — He  is  joined  by  his  wife  and  two  daughters,  who  share  his  imprisonment — 
they  are  discharged  and  return  to  Holstein— they  return  to  France— His  interview  with 
the  First  Consul — Protests  against  hig  appointment  of  consul  for  life,  and  writes  him  a 
letter — This  ends  the  connexion  between  him  and  Napoleon. 

THE  imprisonment  and  suffering  of  La  Fayette  exci 
ted  the  most  lively  interest  with  the  friends  of  liberty 
and  humanity  throughout  Europe  and  America;  here, 
particularly,  the  deepest  sympathy  was  manifested  in 
his  behalf.  As  was  natural  to  have  been  supposed,  no 
one  was  more  sensibly  affected  at  the  misfortunes  of  La 
Fayette  than  his  friend  Washington,  at  this  time  presi 
dent  of  the  United  States.  From  the  hostility  both  of 
the  government  of  France  and  the  coalesced  sovereigns 
to  La  Fayette,  it  was  a  delicate  matter  for  Washington 
to  interfere  officially  HI  his  behalf,  and  at  the  same 


.MARQUIS    1)E    LA    FAYETTE. 

very  evident  that  this  course  was  not  the  most  likely  to 
be  successful ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  it  might  have  ex 
posed  him  to  severer  treatment.  Washington,  however, 
was  not  unmindful  of  the  situation  of  his  personal  friend, 
and  the  friend  of  America;  lie  instructed  our  minister  at 
St.  James's,  and  those  at  the  other  foreign  courts,  to  in 
terest  themselves  in  his  behalf,  and  to  make  known  the 
interest  felt  by  the  government  of  the  United  States  in 
his  fate.  He  also  sent  a  messenger  to  Berlin,  to  solicit 
his  release,  but  he  did  not  arrive  until  La  Fayette  had 
been  delivered  over  to  the  Austrian  government.  All 
his  efforts  having  failed,  Washington  addressed  the  sub 
joined  unofficial  letter,  containing  the  most  noble  senti 
ments,  directly  to  the  emperor  of  Austria. 

"It  will  readily  occur  to  your  majesty,  that  occasions  may  sometimes 
exist,  on  which  official  considerations  would  constrain  the  chief  of  a  na 
tion  to  be  silent  and  passive,  in  relation  even  to  objects  which  affect  his 
sensibility,  and  claim  his  interposition  as  a  man.  Finding  myself  precise 
ly  in  this  situation  at  present,  I  take  the  liberty  of  writing  this  private 
letter  to  your  majesty,  being  persuaded  that  my  motives  will  also  be  my 
•pology  for  it. 

;>In  common  with  the  people  of  this  country,  I  retain  a  strong  and  cor 
dial  sense  of  the  services  rendered  to  them  by  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette; 
and  my  friendship  'or  him  has  been  constant  and  sincere.  It  is  natural, 
therefore,  that  I  should  sympathize  with  him  and  his  family  in  their  mis 
fortunes;  and  endeavour  to  mitigate  the  calamities  they  experience,  among 
which  his  present  confinement  is  not  the  least  distressing. 

"I  forbear  to  enlarge  on  this  delicate  subject.  Permit  me  only  to  sub 
mit  to  your  majesty's  consideration,  whether  his  long  imprisonment  and 
the  confiscation  of  his  estate,  and  the  indigence  and  dispersion  of  his 
family,  and  the  painful  anxieties  incident  to  all  these  circumstances,  do  not 
form  an  assemblage  of  sufferings  which  recommend  him  to  the  mediation 
of  humanity?  Allow  me,  Sir,  on  this  occasion  to  be  its  organ;  and  to  en 
treat  that  he  may  be  permitted  to  come  to  this  country,  on  such  conditions 
as  your  majesty  may  think  it  expedient  to  prescribe. 

"As  it  is  a  maxim  with  me  not  to  ask  what,  under  similar  circumstances, 
I  would  not  grant,  your  majesty  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe  that  this  re 
quest  appears  to  me  to  correspond  with  those  great  principles  of  magna 
nimity  and  wisdom,  which  form  the  basis  of  sound  policy  and  durable 
glory.'' 

This  appeal  to  the  magnanimity  and  humanity  of  the 
emperor  was  in  vain;  these  sentiments  are  not  often 
found  in  the  bosoms  of  kings, and  where  they  do  exist, 
they  are  suppressed  by  "reasons  of  state." 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETm  543 

The  subject  of  the  cruel  imprisonment  of  La  Fayette, 
equally  in  violation  of  the  laws  of  nations  and  the  dic 
tates  of  humanity,  was  brought  before  the  house  of  com 
mons  in  Great  Britain.  General  Fitzpatrick,  on  th»  16th 
December,  1796,  moved  for  an  address  to  his  majesty^ 
stating  that  the  detention  of  La  Fayette  and  others,  by 
order  of  the  king  of  Prussia  and  emperor  of  Austria, 
was  dishonourable  to  the  cause  of  the  allies,  and  praying 
him  to  interfere  for  their  release.  The  motion  called 
forth  a  most  animated  and  spirited  debate;  it  was  ably 
and  eloquently  supported  by  the  mover,  Mr.  Fox;  and 
other  members  of  the  opposition;  and  was  opposed  by 
the  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  and  other  ministerial 
members.  The  motion  afforded  a  striking  illustration 
of  the  inconsistency  of  conduct  or  waywardness  of  for 
tune  in  two  individuals.  Among  the  supporters  of  the 
motion  was  Colonel  Tarleton,  then  a  member  of  parlia 
ment,  and  who  had  been  opposed  to  La  Fayette  in 
America,  in  the  camaign  of  1781,  and  at  that  time  so 
obnoxious  to  all  the  friends  of  liberty  in  the  United 
States,  and  the  friends  of  La  Fayette.  He  displayed 
much  zeal  in  supporting  the  motion  in  favour  of  his  for 
mer  military  opponent,  and  did  great  justice  to  his  char 
acter  and  merits.  While  Tarleton,  who  had  been  so 
active  in  supporting  the  oppressive  plans  of  the  British 
government  for  enslaving  America,  was  advocating  the 
cause  of  La  Fayette,  who  was  a  champion  in  her  strug 
gle  for  liberty.  Edmund  Burke,  who  during  the  American 
war,  vVas  the  fearless  advocate  of  the  rights  and  liberty 
of  the  Americans,  was  now  the  most  violent  opposer  of 
this  early  and  steadfast  friend  of  America  and  of  liber* 
ty.  He  was  very  severe  in  his  remarks,  and  charged  La 
Fayette  with  being  the  first  mover  and  author  of  all  the 
evils  which  had  afflicted  France,  and  of  the  general  war 
in  Europe. 

In  Germany  also,  the  liberal  and  enlightened,  the 
friends  of  justice,  liberty,  and  humanity,  manifested  great 
admiration  of  the  patriot  and  hero  of  two  revolutions, 
in  both  of  which  he  had  been  the  champion  of  liberty 
and  of  the  rights  of  mankind,  and  an  honourable  sym 
pathy  for  his  cruel  sufferings.  Many  of  the  public  journafs 


544  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETlfr, 

had  sufficient  independence  to  openly  advocate  his 
cause,  and  to  condemn  the  conduct  of  his  persecutors. 
Among  his  greatest  admirers  was  Henry  Bollman,  a 
young  physician  of  Gottingen,  who  was  so  affected  by 
the  barbarous  treatment  which  he  experienced,  that  he 
determined  to  attempt  his  liberation  at  the  hazard  of  his 
own  life.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1794,  he  sold 
his  library  to  raise  funds  for  his  journey,  and  set  out  on 
foot  for  Hamburg.  Here  he  became  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Sievsking,  a  most  liberal  and  benevolent  man,  and  a 
great  admirer  of  LaFayette;  he  undertook  to  assist 
Bollman  in  his  enterprise,  and  gave  him  a  letter  of  in 
troduction,  and  also  a  letter  of  credit  for  10,000  florins 
on  Hirsch,  a  banker  at  Olmutz. 

Bollman,  having  by  his  conduct  excited  suspicions 
among  the  police,  he  was  advised  by  Hirsch  to  leave 
Olmutz,  and  go  to  Vienna  for  the  present.  Here  he 
became  acquainted  with  Francis  Huger,  an  American, 
son  of  Colonel  Huger  of  Charleston,  South  Carolina, 
who  was  the  first  man  that  received  La  Fayette  on  his 
arrival  in  the  United  States,  in  1777.  Young  Huger 
was  active,  generous,  and  brave;  and  the  admiration 
which  every  American  feels  for  La  Fayette,  in  him  was 
increased  from  the  circumstance  of  his  being  the  person 
al  friend  of  his  father.  These  circumstances  induced 
Bollman  to  confide  his  intentions  to  Huger,  and  to  soli 
cit  his  assistance.  The  proposition  was  assented  to  with 
enthusiasm  by  the  young  American,  who  declared  that 
his  purse  and  his  blood  should  be  devoted  to  so  hon 
ourable  and  meritorious  an  enterprise.  They  left  Vien 
na  with  a  faithful  servant,  all  on  horseback,  and  tra 
versed  the  surrounding  country,  under  the  pretence  that 
Huger,  being  unwell,  was  travelling  for  his  health  with 
his  physician.  They  examined  the  roads  in  various  di 
rections,  and  particularly  the  great  road  leading  from 
Olmutz  to  Trappau. 

The  illustrious  prisoner  was^  guarded  with  the  great 
est  possible  strictness — how  then  could  they  communi 
cate  with  him?  This  was  a  difficult  point;  but  by 
means  of  the  banker  and  one  thousand  florins,  they  en 
gaged  in  their  interest  the  head  surgeon  qf  the  garrison, 


MARQUIS    DE    LA   FAYETTE. 

'through  whose  assistance  they  opened  a  communication 
with  La  Fayette.  The  surgeon  asked  permission  to 
make  a  medical  visit  to  the  prisoners,  and  in  that  way 
conveyed  to  La  Fayette  a  note,  which  informed  him  that 
several  of  his  friends  had  arrived  with  the  intention  of 
effecting  his  escape,  and  advising  him  to  feign  indispo 
sition,  and  to  request  to  the  jailer  that  he  might  have  the 
assistance  of  a  medical  gentleman.  This  note  was  the 
first  La  Fayette  had  received  since  he  had  been  at  Ol- 
mutz,  and  was  read  with  great  eagerness;  he  wrote  an 
answer  on  the  back  with  his  blood,  and  returned  it 
through  the  hand  of  the  doctor. 

After  the  feigned  sickness  of  La  Fayette  had  continu 
ed  for  some  time,  his  physician  represented  to  the  gov- 
crner  of  Olmutz,  that  it  was  necessary  to  his  recovery, 
that  he  should  ride  without  the  walls  of  the  place,  in 
an  open  carriage,  to  take  the  fresh  air.  This  advice 
was  reduced  to  writing,  and  the  reasons  for  it  assigned; 
and  the  intendant  made  a  cerificate  in  confirmation  of 
this  statement.  These  documents  being  sent  to  Vienna, 
the  desired  permission  was  obtained,  accompanied  with 
the  injunction  that  the  governor  should  always  accom 
pany  the  prisoner  in  person,  and  a  strong  guard  to  pre 
vent  his  escape.  For  several  weeks  La  Fayette  daily 
rode  out  with  the  governor,  and  by  his  prepossessing 
manners  succeeded  in  attaching  the  governor  very  much 
to  him. 

The  plan  being  matured  and  the  arrangements  com 
pleted,  the  27th  of  October  was  fixed  on,  as  the  day 
for  carrying  into  execution  their  bold  enterprise.  Boll- 
man  and  Huger  mounted  their  horses  at  the  hour  the 
governor  and  his  prisoner  were  to  take  their  accustom 
ed  ride,  and  not  either  of  them  being  known  to  La  Fay 
ette,  as  the  carriage  passed  them,  whilst  riding  very 
slow,  they  took  out  a  white  handkerchief,  which  was  a 
signal  agreed  upon,  and  La  Fayette  did  the  same. — 
When  the  carriage  had  arrived  at  the  place  designated, 
the  general  made  some  pretence  for  advancing  some 
distance  beyond  the  governor;  at  the  same  moment, 
Bollman  and  Huger  spurred  their  horses  forward,  and 
as  they  came  up  with  La  Fayette,  Huger  sprang  off  to 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

assist  him  to  mount  behind  Bollman;  but  before  this 
was  effected,  the  governor,  notwithstanding  his  age  and 
infirmities,  came  up  and  seized  the  general  by  the  arm 
as  he  was  mounting,  and  one  of  the  guards  approached 
and  seized  him  behind.  Huger  seizing  the  guard  by  the 
hair,  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and  told  La  Fayette  to 
make  his  escape  with  Bollman.  But  before  he  could  do 
this,  he  had  a  severe  struggle  with  the  guard  and  the  old 
governor;  in  attempting  to  thrust  his  handkerchief  into 
the  mouth  of  the  former  to  stifle  his  cries  for  help,  the 
general  had  two  fingers  severely  bit,  and  in  extricating 
them,  the  skin  and  flesh  was  torn  away  and  left  in  the 
mouth  of  the  guard.  In  the  scuffle  which  ensued,  Hu- 
ger's  horse  took  fright  and  fled  into  the  fields.  The  gen 
eral  having  cleared  himself,  was  coming  to  the  assis 
tance  of  Huger,  but  was  entreated  by  the  latter,  to  mount 
instantly  behind  Bollman  and  fly,  and  that  he  would 
take  care  of  himself.  The  general  having  mounted,  Boll 
man  rode  off  at  full  speed.  Huger  made  his  escape  in 
to  a  thicket,  but  was  soon  pursued  and  taken  by  a  peas 
ant,  being  much  exhausted;  his  hands  were  tied  and  he 
was  taken  back  to  town,  where  he  was  immediately  put 
in  irons  and  thrown  into  prison. 

Bollman  and  the  general  had  not  gone  three  miles  be 
fore  they  heard  the  report  of  the  alarm-guns  of  the  for 
tress.  The  police  in  Austria  is  so  strict,  that  when  a 
prisoner  escapes,  or  a  soldier  deserts,  three  alarm-guns 
are  fired,  which  is  the  signal  for  the  mayors  and  munici 
pal  officers  of  the  neighbouring  towns,  as  far  as  the  report 
is  heard,  to  close  the  town  gates,  and  cause  the  alarm- 
bells  to  be  rung,  which  are  heard  from  one  village  to 
another,  by  which  means  the  alarm  is  spread  to  the  dis 
tance  of  fifty  or  sixty  miles.  The  cavalry  is  despatched 
hi  pursuit,  and  all  the  inhabitants,  who  are  organized 
into  a  kind  of  militia,  are  obliged  on  heavy  penalties  to 
meet  at  appointed  places,  where  they  receive  arms  and 
instructions.  By  these  means,  the  alarm,  and  intelli 
gence  of  the  escape  of  a  prisoner,  had  been  spread  to  a 
great  distance.  Noth withstanding  these  measures,  La 
Fayette  and  Bollman  proceeded  safely  eleven  miles: 
here  Bollman  was  at  a  loss  which  road,  to  take;  after 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE,  54? 

some  hesitation  he  took  the  wrong  one,  which  was  une 
ven  and  rough ;  the  horse  being  fatigued  stumbled  and 
threw  both  of  them  off,  several  times,  at  one  of  which 
La  Fayette  received  a  severe  contusion;  it  was  extreme 
ly  dark,  and  they  had  advanced  about  three  miles  on 
the  road  they  were  travelling,  when  Bollman  being  sat 
isfied  they  were  wrong, they  concluded  to  return; at  this 
time  a  patrolling  party  came  up,  and  took  them  into 
custody,  without  however  knowing  who  they  were.  They 
were  confined  in  a  barn,  with  a  guard  that  night,  and 
the  next  mornkig  were  taken  before  the  mayor  of  Braun- 
Seifer.  Perceiving  that  there  was  tie  other  resource, 
Bollman  informed  the  mayor  that  his  companion  was  tbe 
great  and  good  La  Fayette,  whom  he  had  assisted  to  es 
cape,  and  entreated  him  to  save  the  general,  offering  him 
all  the  gold  he  had  about  him,  besides  bills  of  exchange 
to  the  amount  of  20,000  florins,  and  telling  him,  that  La 
Fayette  would  promise  him  one  hundred  thousand  more, 
if  he  desired  them:  and  added,  that  he  had  brought  La 
Fayette  into  that  situation,  and  ought  to  be  responsible 
for  its  consequences,  and  that  he  would  remain  a  prison 
er.  Mr.  Richter,  the  mayor,  was  a  benevolent  man,  and 
had  great  veneration  for  La  Fayette,  but  dared  not  as 
sume  the  responsibility  of  permitting  hi  IB  to  escape. — 
Soon  the  aid-de-camp  of  the  governor  arrived,  with  or 
ders  for  the  prisoners  to  be  conducted  back  to  Olinutz, 
and  both  were  thrown  into  prison. 

La  Fayette  was  put  in  irons,  and  subjected  to  the  mos,t 
rigorous  confinement,  the  most  severe  suffering.  No  light 
was  admitted  into  his  cell,  shackles  were  placed  on  his 
feet,  and  an  iron  round  his  waist,  to  which  a  chain  was 
fastened  a'nd  secured  to  the  wall,  with  sufficient  length 
barely  to  permit  him  to  turn  from  one  side  to  the  other; 
his  bed  consisted  of  a  little  damp  and  mouldy  straw.  He 
had  suffered  severely  from  fatigue  and  the  bruises  he 
iiad  received  in  attempting  to  escape,  which,  with  the 
unspeakable  anxiety  and  anguish  he  felt  on  finding  him 
self  again  in  the  hands  of  his  tormentors,  brought  on  a 
violent  fever.  The  winter  was  severe,  hut  his  jailors  did 
Hot  relax  the  severity  of  his  treatment,  but  increased  his 
sufferings  as  his  constitution  seemed  to  sink  under  them* 

W3 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

so  that  it  appeared  as  if  it  was  their  object  to  put  an  end 
to  the  existence  cf  their  victim.  He  was  emaciated  al 
most  to  a  skeleton,  and  the  hair  fell  from  his  head.  His 
mind  was,  at  the  same  time,  filled  with  anxiety,  and  the 
deepest  concern  for  the  fate  of  his  wife  and  children,  of 
whom  he  had  obtained  no  other  information  but  that 
thev  had  been  confined  in  the  prisons  of  Paris.  To  fill 
the  measure  of  his  afflictions,  his  inhuman  jailers  inform 
ed  him  that  his  generous  friends,  Bollman  and  Huger, 
were  soon  to  be  brought  to  a  public  execution,  and  ex 
piate  their  enormous  crime  on  the  scaffold.  In  this  state 
of  rigorous  confinement  and  suffering  he  remained  for 
several  months,  when,  from  the  influence  of  his  friends,, 
the  Jewish  banker  and  the  chief  surgeon,  who  had  not 
been  suspected  of  aiding  in  his  escape,  his  irons  were  ta 
ken  off,  and  he  was  permitted  to  walk  before  the  front 
of  the  prison,  attended  by  a  strong  guard,  but  no  one 
was  allowed  to  speak  to  him. 

Boliman  and  Huger  suffered  a  cruel  imprisonment  for 
their  patriotic  attempt  to  rescue  La  Fayette,  in  the 
same  building  with  him;  but  each  were  confined  in  a 
separate  cell,  and  they  were  not  permitted  to  have  any 
communication  with  each  other:  they  however  devised 
and  practised  several  ingenious  modes  of  communica 
ting  with  each  other,  which  afforded  them  much  satis 
faction,  and  escaped  the  scrutiny  of  their  jailers.  At 
length  BoHmaoand  Huger  were  brought  to  trial,  and 
were  first  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life;  which  was 
commuted  to  a  term  of  years,  and  finally  they  were  of 
fered  their  liberty  on  the  payment  of  a  large  sum  of 
money  to  the  government,  which,  by  the  help  of  friends, 
they  raised,  and  were  accordingly  released. 

The  fate  of  Madame  La  Fayette  does  not  less  demand 
our  sympathies,  or  even  admiration,  than  that  of  her 
illustrious  husband.  On  the  flight  of  La  Fayette,  she 
and  her  two  daughters,  one  fifteen  and  the  other  twelve, 
were  seized  and  cast  into  prison  at  Paris.  The  family 
estate  was  confiscated,  and  most  of  the  political  and 
personal  friends  of  her  husband  were  crushed  by  the 
Mountain,*  and  fell  under  the  stroke  of  the  guillotine. 

*The  violent  party  was  called  the  Mountain  Party. 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  549 

For  twenty  months,  she  and  her  daughters  suffered  this 
degrading  imprisonment;  during  a  reign  of  anarchy  and 
terror,  daily  hearing  of  the  death  of  her  friends,  anx 
ious  about  her  own  fate,  and  still  more  about  her  hus 
band's.  She  bore  her  severe  and  complicated  distress-es, 
with  great  firmness  and  fortitude;  reposing, 'when  all 
earthly  succour  seemed  to  have  failed,  on  Divine  Prov 
idence,  she  was  often  found  in  a  retired  part  of  her  pris 
on,  with  uplifted  hands  and  holy  supplications  to  that 
Being  who  holds  in  his  hands  the  destinies  of  man. — 
When  she  was  liberated,  from  the  feeble  state  of  her 
health,  she  was  advised  by  her  physicians  to  seek  re*- 
pose  in  some  retired  part  of  the  country;  but  in  opposi 
tion  to  this  advice,  and  the  entreaties  of  her  friends,  she 
resolved  to  repair  to  Olinutz,  and  if  she  could  not  pro 
cure  the  liberation  of  her  husband,  to  share  in  his  im 
prisonment.  She  went  first  to  Vienna,  and  through  the 
influence  and  assistance  of  two  noble  females,  obtained 
an  audience  with  the  Emperor.  His  majesty  received 
her  graciously,  and  expressed  a  personal  desire  that  her 
husband  should  be  set  at  liberty ;  but  said  the  subject 
was  too  complicated  for  him  to  interfere  with  it,  and  that 
he  could  not  do  it,  consistent  with  his  political  engage 
ments  with  other  powers.  He  was  graciously  pleased, 
however,  to  permit  her  to  visit  her  husband,  and  share 
in  his  captivity.  This,  with  her  two  daughters,  she  im 
mediately  did,  whose  presence  spread  a  ray  of  light  in 
the  gloom  of  the  dungeon,  and  rendered  the  most  cruel 
imprisonment  tolerable.  It  is  impossible  even  to  conceive 
of  the  joy  which  La  Fayette  experienced  on  receiving 
his  beloved  wife  and  daughters,  or  the  consolation  which 
she  administered  to  him  in  his  affliction.  Of  women  it 
is  truly  said — 

"When  pain  and  sicknes.s  cloud  the  brow 
A  ministering  angel  thou!" 

And  of  po  one  could  this  be  more  true  than  of  Madame 
La  Fayette,  who  was  one  of  the  best  and  most  sensible 
of  women.  For  nearly  two  years  she  and  her  two 
daughters  remained  in  prison.  Atone  time,  her  health 
being  much  impaired,  she  asked  permission  to  visit  Vi 
enna  for  a  week:  and  was  informed  that  her  request 


550  WAKQU13  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

would  be  granted,  provided  she  would  consent  never  tf> 
enter  the  prison  again,  and  to  have  hep  daughters  con 
fined  in  a  separate  apartment  from  their  father.  The 
base  offer  was  declined  with  becoming  spirit,  in  a  letter 
which  concludes  with  the  following  dignified  language: 
"Whatever  may  be  the  state  of  my  own  health,  and  the 
inconvenience  attending  the  stay  of  my  daughters  in  this 
place,  we  will  most  gratefully  take  advantage  of  the 
goodness  his  imperial  majesty  has  expressed  towards 
us,  by  permission  to  share  in  the  miseries  of  this  captivity* 

La  Fayette,  his  wife,  and  daughters,  and  his  two 
friends,  were  all  discharged  on  the  25th  of  August,  1797, 
for  which  they  were  indebted  to  General  Bonaparte. — 
The  victorious  general  peremptorily  insisted  on  the  lib 
eration  of  the  prisoners  of  Olmutz,asa  preliminary  con 
dition  to  peace.  He  inquired  if  the  prisoners  at  Olmutz 
were  free,  and  as  the  ambassadors  hesitated  in  a  reply, 
he  observed,  with  great  warmth, — "Gentlemen,  you  may 
take  my  word  for  it,  that  if  these  prisoners  are  not  in 
stantly  set  free,  I  sign  no  treaty  of  peace  with  his  impe 
rial  majesty."  He  was  obliged,  however,  to  despatch 
one  of  his  aids  to  Vienna  to  demand  of  the  emperor 
himself  the  liberation  of  his  prisoners,  which  was  ac 
companied  with  a  threat,  that  if  it  was  not  immediately 
done,  he  would  march  to  the  capital  and  throw  open  the 
prison  doors  himself.  Such  was  the  reluctance  of  the 
ejnperor  to  give  up  his  victims;  but  he  was  obliged  to 
yield  to  the  conqueror:  the  prisoners  were  discharged, 
and  soon  after,  the  celebrated  treaty  of  Campo  Formio 
was  concluded. 

The  emperor  prescribed  several  conditions  to  the  lib 
eration  of  La  Fayette,  one  of  which  was,  that  he  should 
leave  Europe  immediately  for  America;  and  another 
that  he  should  never  set  his  foot  on  the  Austrian  territo 
ry  without  special  permission,  as  his  principles  were  dan 
gerous  to  the  Austrian  government.  The  general  replied, 
that  although  it  was  his  wish  and  intention  to  go  to 
.  America,  yet  he  could  not  consent  to  such  a  condition, 
as  that  would  be  recognising  the  right  of  his  majesty  to 
impose  it;  and  as  to  his  never  entering  the  Austrian  do- 
mijuons,  he  owed  certain  obligations,  both  to  France  and 


iMARQUlS    DE    LA    FAYETTE  551 

America,  of  which  he  could  not  divest  himself,  and  he 
should  enter  into  no  engagements  which  might  interfere 
with  the  rights  of  his  native  or  adopted  country  to  his 
personal  services.  With  these  exceptions,  he  would 
assure  his  majesty  that  it  was  his  determination  never 
again  to  set  his  foot  on  the  territory  of  the  emperor. 

La  Fayette,  with  his  family  and  his  two  friends,  who 
had  been  his  fellow-sufferers,  after  being  liberated,  pro 
ceeded  to  the  neutral  city  of  Hamburg,  where  they  were 
received  and  treated  with  great  attention  by  a  number 
of  distinguished  Americans  and  the  French  minister, 
who  gave  them  a  public  entertainment.  Here  they  put 
on  the  tri-coloured  cockade,  to  show  that  they  were  not 
emigrants,  but  friends  to  their  country  and  the  princi 
ples  of '89.  After  a  few  days  stay  they  accepted  the  in 
vitation  of  a  Hanoverian  nobleman,  and  spent  some 
time  at  his  chateau  in  Holstein.  Previous  to  this,  they 
were  joined  by  George  Washington  La  Fayette,  who 
had  arrived  from  America,  where  he  had  spent  consid 
erable  time  at  Mount  Vernon.  This  rendered  the  fam 
ily  complete,  and  consummated  their  happiness.  At  the 
mansion  of  his  noble  friend,  the  general's  eldest  daugh 
ter,  Anastatia,  was  married  to  Latour  Maubourg,  broth 
er  of  the  prisoner  of  that  rrame,  who  had  been  one  of  La 
Fayette's  aids-de-camp.  The  celebration  was  in  a  plain 
and  simple 'style,  which  best  accorded  with  the  truly  re 
publican  ideas  of  La  Fayette. 

George  Washington  La  Fayette,  in  1795,  went  to  the 
United  States.  He  landed  at  Boston,  and  immediately 
wrote  to  Washington,  then  president,  acquainting  him 
with  his  situation,  and  requesting  his  advice,  as  the 
friend  of  his  father.  General  La  Fayette  then  being 
proscribed  by  the  government  of  France,  as  an  unfriend 
ly  disposition  had  already  been  manifested  by  the  direc 
tory  towards  the  United  States,  the  president  felt  con 
strained  to  decline  interfering  officially  in  behalf  of  the 
son  of  the  illustrious  friend  of  America.  He  however 
wrote  a  private  letter  to  the  Honourable  George  Cabot^ 
requesting  him  to  acquaint  young  La  Fayette  with  the 
reasons  why  he  could  not  offically  interfere  in  his  behalf, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  assure  him  that  he  might  con- 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

sider  him  as  a  father,  and  rely  on  his  protection  and  as 
sistance.  He  also  advised  to  have  him  enter  the  uni 
versity  at  Cambridge,  and  told  Mr.  C.  that  he  would  see 
the  expenses  paid.  But  young  Fayeite  did  not  avail 
himself  of  this  offer,  as  the  private  tutor,  who  had  ac 
companied  him,  wished  to  have  him  under  his  sole  in 
struction. 

General  La  Fayette  and  his  family,  including  his  son- 
in-law,  went  from  thfl  house  of  his  Hanoverian  friend  to 
the  chateau  of  the  Count  de  Tesse,  one  of  the  French 
emigrants,  and  who  had  married  the  sister  of  Madame 
La  Fayette's  mother.  Being  unable  to  return  to  his 
country,  he  remained  in  this  retreat,  in  the  mansion  of 
his  uncle,  for  a  considerable  time,  and  amused  himself 
with  studying  the  agriculture  of  the  country,  particular 
ly  the  raisingof  merino  sheep,  in  which  the  inhabitants 
of  Holstein  excel,  and  to  which  afterward  he  very  suc 
cessfully  turned  his  attention  at  La  Grange. 

In  this  situation,  La  Fayette  remained,  happy  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  family  and  friends,  until  the  revolution 
of  the  18th  of  Brumaire,  (Nov.  10,  1790,)  which  estab 
lished  the  consular  constitution,  and  placed  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  at  the  head  of  the  government.  Among  the 
first  acts  of  the  new  government,  was  a  proclamation, 
inviting  all  emigrants,  and  other  French  citizens,  to  re 
turn,  and  assuring  them  of  protection.  La  Fayette  and 
his  family  immediately  returned  to  France,  after  an 
absence  of  nearly  eight  years,  and  with  his  son-in-law 
Maubourg7soon  after  visited  Paris. 

The  First  Consul,  to  give  splendour  and  support  to 
the  new  government,  intended  to  draw  around  him  all 
who  had  been  distinguished  in  the  field  or  in  the  cabin 
et,  during  the  revolution,  and  among  the  rest  General  La 
Fayette  was  invited  to  the  Thuilleries.  La  Fayette 
admired  the  youthful  genius  of  Bonaparte,  and  the  as 
tonishing  victories  he  had  achieved,  which  had  saved 
France,  and  cast  a  lustre  on  the  French  name;  he  also 
felt  gfateful  to  him  for  the  services  rendered  to  himself. 
An  interview  took  place  between  the&e  two  distinguish 
ed  characters,  which  convinced  Bonaparte  that  the 
patriot  of  two  revolutions  was  too  inflexible  in  his  prin- 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  ,)ir.< 

tuples  to  become  an  instrument  of  his  ambition.  He  did 
not,  however,  immediately  relinquish  his  design  of  avail 
ing  himself  of  the  influence  of  the  name  and  reputation 
of  La  Fayette,  by  inducing  him  to  take  a  part  in  the 
new  government.  He  retained  him  in  the  office  of  gen 
eral  of  division,  and  offered  him  a  seat  in  his  conserva 
tive  senate.  In  this  office,  there  was  a  salary  of  7000 
dollars,  which  would  have  been  very  acceptable  to  La 
Fayette,  as  his  income  was  now  reduced  to  about  two 
thousand  dollars,  which  had  been  thirty  thousand  at  the 
commencement  of  the  revolution.  But  being  satisfied 
that  it  was  the  intention  of  the  First  Consul  to  establish 
a  military  government,  of  which  he  was  to  be  the  chief, 
and  that  the  conservative  senate,  and  the  constitution 
itself,  were  only  empty  forms,  intended  to  give  more  se 
curity  and  stability  to  the  power  of  Bonaparte,  La  Fay 
ette  did  not  hesitate  to  decline  the  offer,  although  stren 
uously  urged  to  accept  of  it  by  his  friends.  With  this 
office  would  have  been  connected  that  of  count  of  the 
empire.  He  preferred  to  remain  in  retirement,  and 
forego  the  advantages  of  so  honourable  and  lucrative  a 
station,  to  any  compromise  with  principle,  or  placing 
himself  in- a  situation  which  might  cast  a  suspicion  on 
his  political  integrity,  or  occasion  even  a  doubt  as  to  the 
sincerity  of  his  devotion  to  liberal  principles  and  free 
institutions.  Such  aoble  and  disinterested  sentiments; 
such  political  consistency,  firmness,  and  integrity,  if  not 
wholly  unparalleled,  was  without  any  example,  on  that 
occasion  except  the  case  of  the  celebrated  Carnot. 

The  First  Consul  did  not,  however,  entirely  abandon 
the  idea  of  obtaining  the  approbation,  if  not  the  support 
of  La  Fayette;  and  previously  to  his  election  as  consul 
fer  life,  he  invited  him  to  the  Thuilleries,  and  a  remark 
able  interview  took  place  between  them.  Napoleon  or 
dered  every  one  to  retire,  and  commencing  a  conversa 
tion  on  the  subject,  attempted  to  show  that  a  permanent 
magistracy  was  necessary  for  the  security  and  happiness 
of  France.  General  La  Fayette  boldly  replied,  that 
"before  venturing  on  such  a  step,  France  expects  of  you 
a  guarantee  of  her  liberties;  when  they  are  satisfied  on 
this  score,  they  will  comply  with  your  wishes  unasked/* 


.354  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

In  conformity  to  the  sentiments  disclosed  on  this  occa 
sion,  his  vote  was  expressed  in  the  following  words: — 
*'J  cannot  vote  for  such  a  magistracy,  until  the  liberties 
of  the  people  are  secured;  in  tiiat  case,  I  vote  for  Na 
poleon  Bonaparte."  In  further  explanation  of  his  views 
and  motives,  he  addressed  to  the  First  Consul  the  fol 
lowing  noble  and  independent  sentiments: — 

"GENERAL, — 

"When  a  man,  who  is  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  gratitude 
he  owes  you,  and  who  is  too  ardent  a  lover  of  glory  to  be  wholly  indiffer 
ent  to  yours,  connects  his  suffrage  with  conditional  restrictions,  those  res- 
frictions  not  only  secure  him  from  suspicion,  but  prove  amply,  that  no  one 
will,  more  gladly  than  himself,  behold  in  you  the  chief  magistrate,  for  life, 
of  a  free  and  independent  republic. 

"The  eighteenth  of  Brumal  re  saved  France  from  destruction  •  and  I  felt 
myself  reassured  and  recalled  by  the  liberal  declarations  to  which  you  have 
connected  the  sanction  of  your  honour.  In  your  consular  authority,  there 
was  afterward  discerned  that  salutary  dictatorial  prerogative,  which,  under 
the  auspices  of  a  genius  like  yours,  accomplished  such  glorious  purposes; 
yet,  less  glorious,  let  me  add,  than  the  restoration  of  liberty  would  prove. 

"It  is  not  possible,  General,  that  you,  the  first  amidst  that  order  of 
mankind,  which  surveys  every  age  and  every  country,  before  the  stations 
of  its  members  in  the  scale  can  be  determined,  that  you  can  desire  that  a 
revolution,  marked  by  an  unexampled  series  of  stupendous  victories  and 
unheard-of  sufferings,  shall  give  nothing  to  the  world  but  a  renovated  sys 
tem  of  arbitrary  government.  The  people  of  this  country  have  been  ac 
quainted  with  their  rights  too  long,  to  forget  them  for  ever:  but  perhaps 
they  may  recover  and  enjoy  them  better  now,  than  during  the  period  of 
revolutionary  effervescence.  And  you,  by  the  strength  of  your  character, 
and  the  influence  of  public  confidence,  by  the  superiority  of  your  talents, 
your  power,  and  your  fortunes,  in  re-establishing  the  liberties  of  France, 
can  allay  all  agitations,  calm  all  anxieties,  and  subdue  all  dangers. 

"When  I  wish,  then,  to  see  the  career  of  yeur  glory  crowned  by  the  hon 
ours  of  perpetual  magistracy,  I  but  act  in  correspondence  with  my  own 
private  sentiments,  and  am  influenced  exclusively  by  patriotic  considera 
tions.  But  all  my  political  and  moral  obligations,  the  principles  that  have 
governed  every  action  of  my  life,  call  on  .me  to  pause,  before  I  bestow  on 
you  my  suffrage,  until  I  feel  assured  that  your  authority  shall  be  erected 
<m  a  basis  worthy  of  the  nation  and  yourself. 

"I  confidently  trust,  General,  that  you  will  recognise  here,  as  you  have 
done  on  all  other  occasions,  a  steady  continuance  of  my  political  opinions, 
combined  witli  the  sincerest  prayers  for  your  welfare,  and  the  deepest 
pense  of  all  my  obligations  to  you." 

This  letter,  which  was  not  answered,  closed  all  inter 
course  between  Bonaparte  and  General  La  Fayette; 
rtrrd  thev  did  not  see  each  other  until  after  the  wonder- 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE.  555 

Jul  restoration  of  the  emperor,  in  June,  1815.  These 
two  distinguished  individuals  were  not  kindred  spirits, 
or  in  any  degree  assimilated  in  their  characters;  and 
their  objects  were  entirely  different.  One,  influenced  by 
an  unbounded  ambition,  aimed  at  unlimited  power,  not 
so  much  for  his  own  aggrandizement  as  for  the  execution 
of  great  and  magnificent  plans ;  he  wished  to  concentrate 
every  thing  in  himself,  and  to  be  the  source  and  fountain 
of  power,  the  arbiter  of  the  destinies  of  France,  and  to 
hold  in  his  own  hands  the  guarantees  of  the  rights  and 
the  liberties  of  the  people.  The  other  possessed  a  more 
exalted,  rational,  and  philosophic  ambition.  He  aspired 
only  at  the  honourable  fame  and  distinction  of  render 
ing  the  most  important  services  to  the  human  race,  and 
from  the  most  disinterested  motives;  he  wished  to  be 
the  first  of  patriots,  and  the  first  of  heroes  in  defence  of 
the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  people.  One  aimed  at 
sovereignty  in  his  own  person,  the  other  wished  to  estab 
lish  the  sovereignty  of  the  people.  Their  principles  and 
views  were  directly  opposite,  although  both  were  oppo 
sed  to  the  reign  of  anarchy  and  violence,  and  were  for 
giving  vigour  and  energy  to  the  laws  on  which  the  se 
curity  of  personal  liberty  and  private  property  depends. 

After  the  event  which  we  have  noticed,  Bonaparte 
manifested  decided  hostility  to  La  Fayette,  and,  on  all 
occasions,  treated  him  with  the  most  studied  neglect. — 
But  it  was  in  vain  that  he  attempted  to  impair  the  re 
spect  or  less-en  the  consequence  of  the  veteran  patriot 
of  two  revolutions;  the  constant,  undeviating,  and  incor 
ruptible  friend  of  liberty.  Not  the  eclat  of  splendid 
victories,  the  glory  of  conquest,  or  all  ihe  gorgeous  pa 
geantry  of  the  imperial  court,  could  cast  into  the  shade 
the  illustrious  name  of  La  Fayette,  although  a  private 
citizen,  and  living  in  retirement. 

The  hostility  of  Napoleon  was  not  confined  to  the  gen 
eral,  but  extended  to  all  who  bore  the  name  (the  most 
illustrious  in  France)  of  La  Fayette ;  to  all  who  were 
connected  with  the  family,  and  even  the  particular 
friends  of  the  Marquis.  Perhaps  there  is  nothing  more 
dishonourable,  in  the  character  of  Bonaparte,  than  his 
treatment  of  the  La  Fayette  family.  George  Washing- 

X3 


556  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTL. 

ton  La  Fayette,  the  only  son  of  the  general,  was  a  brave 
and  excellent  officer;  he  was  general  of  division; Gene 
ral  Grouchy  appointed  him  his  aid;  he  was  distinguish 
ed  on  many  occasions,  and  particularly  at  the  battle  of 
Eylaii,  where  he  saved  the  life  of  Grouchy  twice,  his 
horse  being  killed  under  him.     His  general  made  a  very 
favourable  report  of  his  conduct,  and  recommended  him 
very  warmly  for  promotion;  yet  the  emperor,  instead  of 
promoting  him,  struck  his  name  out  of  the  official  bul 
letin.      But  notwithstanding  the  unworthy  treatment  he 
received,  he  continued  in  the  service,  from  the  com 
mencement  of  the   consular  government,  in  1800,  until 
after  the  peace  of  Tilsit.     It  was  attempted  at  one  time, 
to  persuade  him  to  resign,  but  he  nobly  replied  "that  so 
long  as  his  country  was  involved  in  war,  he  should  con 
sider   himself  disgraced  by  a  resignation  and  that  he 
should  be  ashamed  even  to  think  of  it,  while  all  his  com 
panions  were  daily  exposing  themselves  to  dangers  of 
every  sort.     It  was  true   he  was  an   American  citizen, 
but  he  was  first  of  all  a  Frenchman,  and  a  loyal  French 
man." 

General  La  Fayette's  son-in-law,  De  Lasteyrie,  who 
married  his  second  daughter,  Virginia,  was  also  a  meri 
torious  officer,  and  was  treated  with  the  same  neglect 
by  Bonaparte;  and  this  was  likewise  the  case  with  tlte 
two  former  aids  of  General  La  Fayette. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

He  nemains  in  retirement  at  La  Grange — Situation  of  La  Graflgr— His  family  and  desrfin 
danU — He  employes  himself  in  agricultural  pursuits — Loses  his  wife — Napoleon, after 
his  return  from  Elba,  attempts  to  obtain  his  influence — He  protests  against  the  addi 
tional  act —  Is  elected  representative  to  the  chamber — His  speech  and  resolutions  after 
the  defeat  of  the  emperor — Is  one  of  the  committee  who  attend  the  grand  council  oV 
ministers,  and  oneof  the  commissir.-iers  to  treat  with  the  allies — Capitulation  of  Paris- 
He  retires  to  La  Grange— Is  elettett  a  rcpTceeutative after  the  testoration  of  the  Bour 
bpns. 

AFTER  the  appointment  of  Napoleon  consul  for  life, 
from  which  time  he  manifested  a  strong  dislike  to  La 
Fayette,  who  had  voted  against  his  election,  the  latter 
lived  in  retirement  at  his  estate  of  La  Grange,  situated 
in  the  province  of  Brie,  forty  miles  from  Paris,  engaged 
hi  the  pursuits  of  agriculture;  a  spectator  of  political 


MARQUIS-  PE  LA  FAYETTE,  557 

events,  tranquil  and  happy,  in  the  midst  of  his  numerous 
and  interesting  family.  What  vicissitudes  in  the  life  of 
an  individual!  and  how  extraordinary,  that  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  men  of  the  age,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
should  remain  for  years  in  retirement  during  the  most 
eventful  period  the  world  has  ever  witnessed,  when  Eu 
rope  was  convulsed  to  its  centre,  and  which  embraced 
two  mighty  revolutions,  affecting  the  whole  continent: 
one  the  establishment  of  a  new  system  of  monarchy, 
and  a  new  order  of  things,  by  the  Emperor  Napoleon; 
and  the  other,  in  the  complete  overthrow  of  that  system, 
and  the  re-establishment  of  the  old  regime  and  the 
Bourbon  dynasty ; — and  that  individual,  tire  first  and 
principal  promoter  of,  that  political  revolution,  which, 
in  its  progress,  had  led  to  these  momentous  events,  and 
a-t  one  time  possessed  of  an  unbounded  popularity,  and 
commander  in  chief  of  the  armies  of  France.  He  was 
not,  however,  an  unobservant  spectator  of  passing 
events,  or  indifferent  to  the  welfare  of  his  country;  but, 
whilst  that  country  was  na  longer  free,  his  principles 
and  his  honour  required  of  him  to  remain  in  retirement. 
With  him  the  post  of  honour  was  only  to  be  found  in  a 
private  station. 

"La  Grange  is  situated  in  the  fertile  district  of  La 
Brie,  thiry-  miles  from  Paris^  remote  from  any  common 
road,  and  far  distant  from  a  bustling  world.  In  the 
midst  of  a  luxuriant  wilderness,  rising  above  prolific 
orchards  and  antiquated  woods,  appears  the  five  towers 
of  La  Grange,  tinged  with  the  golden  rays  of  the  de 
clining  sun.  The  deep  moat,  the  draw-bridge,  the  ivied 
tower  and  arched  portals,  opening  into  a  large  square 
court,  has  a  feudal  and  picturesque  character;  and  the 
associations  which  occur,  on  entering  the  residence 
of  a  man  so  heroic,  so  disinterested,  so  celebrated,  fill 
the  mind  with  peculiar  admiration,  and  excite  the  most 
lively  interest."  The  family  party,  partaking  more  of 
patriarchal  than  of  courtly  manners,  is  composed  of  in 
dividuals  mutually  attached,  and  anxious  only  for  mutu 
al  improvement  and  happiness.  It  represents  the 
younger  members,  as  employed  in  their  studies  or  enga 
ged  in  innocent  recreations  so  salutary  to  the  youtbfuj 


558  MARQUIS    1>E  LA    FAYETTE. 

•  ^0 

temper  and  constitution:  and  the  older,  as  occupied  \u 
useful  and  literary  pursuits,  or  devoted  to  the  more  enli 
vening  pleasures  of  conversation. 

"The  venerable  head  of  this  happy  family,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-seven  is  in  the  full  possession  of  every 
talent  and  faculty.  His  memory  has  all  the  tenacity  of 
youthful  recollection.  On  his  person,  time  has  yet  made 
little  visible  impression.  Not  a  wrinkle  furrows  the 
ample  brow;  and  his  unbent  and  noble  figure  is  still  as 
upright,  bold,  and  vigorous,  as  the  mind  which  informs 
it.  Grace,  strength,  and  dignity  still  distinguish  the  fine 
person  of  this  extraordinary  man;  who,  though  more 
than  forty  years  before  the  world,  engaged  in  scenes  of 
strange  and  eventful  conflict,  does  not  yet  appear  to  have 
reached  his  grand  climacteric.  Active  on  his  farm, 
graceful  and  elegant  in  his  saloon,  it  is  difficult  to  trace, 
in  one  of  the  most  successful  agriculturists,  and  one  of 
the  most  perfect  of  fine  gentlemen  of  France,  a  warrior, 
and  a  legislator.  But  the  patriot  is  always  discerna- 
ble.  His  conversation  is  enriched  with  anecdotes  of  all 
that  is  celebrated  in  character  or  event,  for  the  last  fifty 
years.  His  elegant  and  well-chosen  collection  of  books, 
occupies  the  highest  apartments  in  one  of  the  towers  of 
the  chateau ;  and  like  the  study  of  Montaigne,  hangs 
over  the  farm-yard  of  the  philosophical  agriculturist. 
'It  frequently  happens,'  said  M.  La  Fayette,  to  one  of 
his  visiters,  as  they  were  looking  from  a  window  on 
some  flocks,  which  were  moving  beneath, 'that  my  me 
rinos  and  my  hay-carts  dispute  my  attention  to  Hume  or 
Voltaire." 

The  practice  in  Europe,  particularly  with  the  landed 
uobility  and  gentry,  is  very  different  from  that  which 
prevails  in  the  United  States.  Here  the  paternal  home 
becomes  the  home  of  one  of  a  man's  descendants  only, 
and  the  family  estate  is  given  to  him,  or  divided  among 
several  heirs:  the  members  of  the  same  family,  and 
descendants  of  the  same  ancestor,  are  scattered  over 
the  country;  one  remains  in  the  paternal  mansion,  one 
goes  to  seek  his  fortune  at  the  south,  and  becomes  a 
planter  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi;  another  emi 
grates  to  the  west,  and  settles  on  the  borders  of  the 


MARQUIS   DE    LA    FAYETTE.  559 

Ohio  or  the  Maumee ;  and  perhaps  a  fourth  becomes  a 
successful  merchant  in  some  large  seaport.  But  in  Eu 
rope  the  paternal  chateau  frequently  becomes  the  home 
of  all  the  descendants  of  the  owner,  and  his  whole  pos 
terity,  children,  children-in-law,  grand-children,  and 
great-grand-children,  all  reside  under  the  same  roof  with 
himself.  He  becomes  the  patriarch  of  a  numerous  race, 
which  form  a  community  of  themselves.  This  prac 
tice  is  not  favourable  to  enterprise,  but  there  is  some 
thing  very  agreeable  in  it,  and  conducive  to  social  happi 
ness. 

At  La  Grange  are  found  all  the  descendants  of  La  Fay- 
ette,  who  is  the  venerable  head  and  patriarch  of  the  in 
teresting  groupe.  He  has  three  children: — George 
Washington  La  Fayette,  who  was  married  in  1803, and 
has  five  children,  Oscar,  Edmund,  Natalia,  Matilda,  and 
Clementina ;  the  eldest  daughter  is  twenty  years  of  age, 
and  a  favourite  of  her  grand  father.  This,  the  only  son 
of  the  general,  is  now  witii  him  in  the  United  States. — 
His  eldest  daughter,  Anastasie,  as  we  have  already  men 
tioned,  was  married  to  Charles  Latour  Maubourg, 
brother  of  the  companion  of  the  general  in  his  misfor 
tunes,  of  that  name:  they  have  three  daughters,  Louise, 
Jenny,  and  Mrs.Brigode,  the  latter  of  which  is  married, 
and  has  two  daughters,  named  Georgiannia  and  Gabri- 
ella.  Virginia  La  Fayette,  his  second  daughter,  mar- 
iied  M.de  Lasteyrie,  who  served  with  his  brother-in-law 
George,  in  several  campaigns,  and  was  distinguished  at 
Jena,  Eylau,  and  Freidland,  Mrs.  Lasteyrie  has  three 
daughters  and  one  son,  Paulina,  Melaire,  Octavina,  and 
Jules. 

All  these  descendants,  to  the  third  generation,  reside 
at  the  hospitable  mansion  of  La  Grange,  and  it  is  said 
are  principally  dependent  on  the  income  of  that  estate 
for  support. 

The  spacious  chateau  has  not  only  apartments  for  five 
families,  that  of  the  father,  son,  two  sons-in-law,  and 
grand-son-in-law ;  but  there  is  also  an  apartment  for  M. 
de  Maubourg,  the  companion  and  fellow-prisoner  with 
the  general,  and  others  for  a  brother  and  two  sisters  of 
the  same  family. 


,r)60  MARQUIS    BE   LA    FAYEtTK. 

In  this  retired  situation,  these  several  families,  the  de 
scendants  of  the  illustrious  patriot  who  is  their  patriar 
chal  chief, live  in  a  quiet, agreeable, and  simple  manner; 
contented  a«d  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  each  other, 
neither  caring  for,  nor  disturbed  by  the  turbulent  pleas^ 
ures  of  the  world.  Noisy  dissipation,  splendid  equipage, 
and  corrupting  luxury,  are  strangers  at  this  favourite 
abode  of  peace  and  innocence,  and  rural  simplicity. 
Business  and  amusements  divide  their  attention,  and  af 
ford  sufficient  occupation. 

"Little  rural  balls  are  frequently  given  in  the  park,  in 
the  midst  of  the  honest  farmers  and  peasants  of  the 
neighbourhood,  and  plays  are  performed  daily  by  both 
old  and  young  members  of  the  family,  in  the  open  air. 

"Early  in  the  morning, every  one  is  occupied  in  his 
own  apartment,  where  a  servant  brings  him  coffee,  choc 
olate,  or  tea;  scarcely  an  individual  makes  his  appear 
ance  in  the  saloon,  till  ten  or  eleven  o'clock.  The  ut 
most  quiet  and  silence  reigns  throughout  the  chateau 
until  this  time.  Then  all  the  families  meet  together  at 
breakfast,  and  the  delightful  prattle  of  the  children  is 
amusingly  contrasted  with  the  kind  and  constant  atten 
tion  of  their  parents.  Each  mother  is  surrounded  by 
her  little  ones,  the  fathers  assist  in  taking  care  of  them, 
and  the  grandfather  presides  over  the  whole. 

"After  breakfast  each  one  retires  till  5  o'clock,  wher> 
dinner  is  brought  up;  the  families  again  meet,  converse, 
laugh,  sing,  and  dance,  every  one  amusing  himself  ac 
cording  to  his  age  and  taste."* 

In  this  felicitous  retirement,  the  distinguished  patriot 
and  poilanthropist,  who  is  the  subject  of  this  memoiry 
has  lived  surrounded  by  his  numerous  descendants,  with 
patriarchal  simplicity  and  happiness,  since  1800.  He 
has  frequented  no  places  of  amusement,  and  had  little 
intercourse  with  the  world,  he  has  lived  like  an  intelli 
gent  and  independent  agriculturist,  and  exhibiting  the 
bright  exemple  of  a  public  man,  content  with  a  moder 
ate  income,  free  from  all  envious  and  angry  feelings; 
and  willing  to  live  in  dignified  silence  when  he  had  not 

*Geo.  Holstein's  Memoirs  of  La  Fayette, 


MARQUIS    DE    LA   FAYETTE.  561 

the  power  or  influence  to  do  good.  He  has  spent  his 
time  in  the  cultivation  of  his  farm,  in  study,  and  answer 
ing  the  letters  of  his  numerous  correspondents,  and  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  society  of  his  family  and  many 
friends,  who  visit  La  Grange.  He  has  been  a  skilful  and 
scientific  agriculturist, -and  that  agreeable  employment 
has  afforded  him  much  satisfaction,  whilst  it  has  been 
the  source  of  the  support  of  his  large  family.  His  flocks 
of  merinos  have  afforded  him  both  profit  and  pleasure, 
and  he  has  been  very  successful  in  breeding  them,  hav 
ing  made  himself  acquainted  with  the  subject  when  re 
siding  in  Holstein.  "My  dear  friend,"  said  he  to  one  of 
his  visiters,  "you  cannot  conceive  how  much  pleasure  I 
enjoy  in  watching  the  yearly  growth  of  this  fine  flock; 
do  you  know  that  each  fleece  will  give  me  twelve  francs, 
and  that  I  get  two  shearings  every  year?"  To  an 
other  visiter  he  observed,  "That  his  merinos  and  his  hay- 
carts  often  disputed  his  attention  to  Hume  or  Voltaire." 
Most  of  the  distinguished  American  and  English  travel 
lers  in  France,  visit  La  Grange. 

In  the  year  1802,  the  celebrated  Charles  James  Fox, 
the  distinguished    British  orator   and   statesman,   and 
General    Fitzpatrick,  also  a  distinguished  member  of 
parliament,  visited  La  Grange.  As  we  have  already  sta 
ted,  these  two  distinguished  men,  exerted  all  their  pow 
erful  eloquence  in  the  house  of  commons,  when  La  Fay- 
€tte  was  incarcerated   in  the  prisons  of  Olmutz,  to  in 
duce  the  British  government  to   interfere  for  his  liber 
ation.     Although  their  efforts  were  not  successful,  they 
were  not  the  less  honourable  to  them,  or  the  less  calcu 
lated  to  excite  the  gratitude  of  La  Fayette.    General 
Fitzpatrick  had  known  Fayette  in  America,  and  admi 
red  his  character   and  principles.     The  union  of  these 
three  distinguished  patriots  and  philanthropists,  after 
the  momentous  events  they  had  witnessed,  and  in  many 
of  which,  acted  a  distinguished  part,  was  highly  grati 
fying  to  themselves,  and  a  pleasing  sight  to  the  friends 
of  liberty.      "I  have  often,"  says  the  writer  who  gives 
an  account  of  this  interview,"  contemplated  with  great 
pleasure,  Mr.  Fox,  General  Fitzpatrick,  and  M.  de  La 
Fayette,  walking  in  the  long  shady  grove  near  the  cha- 


,j62  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

teau,  speaking  of  past  times,  the  war  in  America,  and 
the  revolution  in  France.  The  rare  sight  of  three  such 
characters,  was  grateful  to  any  one  who  felt  friendly  to 
the  cause  of  civil  liberty,  and  valued  men  for  their 
services  to  humanity,  rather  than  for  successful  ambi 


tion." 


Among  the  numerous  visiters  to  La  Grange,  was  lady 
Morgan,  who,  in  her  "France,"  gives  a  very  interesting 
account  of  her  visit  to  this  hospitable  seat,  which  the 
virtue  and  renown  of  its  present  owner  will  render  cele 
brated  for  ever:  and  of  the  numerous  inmates  of  the 
venerable  chateau. 

In  1807,  General  La  Fayette  was  affected  with  a  do 
mestic  calamity,  which  more  sorely  affected  his  heart 
than  the  sufferings  of  six  years  imprisonment.  The  im 
prisonment  of  Madame  La  Fayette  at  Paris,  and  her 
voluntary  confinement  in  the  damp  and  unwholesome 
dungeons  of  Olmutz,  had  underminded  her  constitution, 
and  she  never  enjoyed  perfect  health  afterward;  but  her 
fortitude,  patience,  equanimity,  and  sociableness  of  tem 
per,  were  not  impaired  with  her  health,  and  enabled 
her  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  her  husband  and 
family*  In  December,  this  virtuous  and  distinguished 
womanf,  fell  a  victim  to  the  barbarous  persecutions  of 
her  husband,  in  which  her  affection  and  fidelity  led  her 
to  be  a  voluntary  sharer.  The  same  winter,  General  La 
Fayette  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  and  break  his  leg, 
which  confined  him  to  his  bed,  and  without  being  able 
to  change  his  position  for  nearly  six  months,  during 
which  he  suffered  severe  pain.  This  is  the  cause  of  his 
present  lameness. 

The  dreadful  struggle  in  which  France  was  engaged 
with  the  combined  forces  of  all  the  powers  of  Europe, 
did  not  call  the  patriot  of  La  Grange  from  his  retreat: 
it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  he  did  not  feel 
great  anxiety  for  the  impending  fate  of  his  country;  as 
much  as  he  disliked  the  disposition  of  Bonaparte,  he 
was  evidently  opposed  to  the  restoration  of  the  Bour 
bons,  as  they  intended  to  seize  upon  the  crown  as  their 
own  right,  by  the  aid  of  ooe  million  of  foreign  bayon 
ets,  and  to  re-establish  the  absolute  power  of  the  mon- 


DE    LA    FAYETtE.  563 

urchy  and  the  old  regime,  asfaral*t  could  be  done,  and 
thus  destroy  all  the  fruits  of  the  revolution.  He  visited 
Louis  but  once  in  1814,  after  his  restoration,  and  al 
though  well  received,  he  did  not  repeat  the  visit.  Whilst 
others,  deeply  stained  with  the  crimes  of  the  revolution, 
and  against  the  Bourbon  family,  offered  their  adhesion, 
and  changed  as  the  political  tune  turned,  he  made  no 
compromise  of  principle,  neither  supplicated  for  favour, 
nor  even  expressed  his  approbation  of  the  re-establish 
ment  of  the  Bourbon  throne. 

That  most  marvellous  event,  in  the  history  of  nations, 
the  return  of  Napoleon  from  Elba,  the  re-establishment 
of  the  imperial  throne,  and  the  threatened  invasion  of 
France,  with  more  than  a  million  of  men,  did  not  call 
him  from  his  retirement  The  emperor,  knowing  his 
influence  with  the  friends  of  liberty,  endeavoured  to  ob 
tain  his  approbation;  he  sent  his  brother  Joseph  to  invite 
-General  La  Fayette  to  an  interview  with  the  emperor, 
that  he  might  judge  for  himself  of  the  guarantees  pro 
posed  to  be  offered  to  the  French  people.  This  invita 
tion  he  declined. 

Napoleon,  on  the  22d  of  April,  with  a  view  to  con 
ciliate  the  nation,  issued  his  ^ctc  Jldditianel,  or  addi 
tional  act,  as  he  called  it,  being  an  addition  to  the  consti 
tutions  of  1799,  1802,  and  1804,  which  provided  for  the 
establishment  of  a  chamber  of  representatives  to  be 
-elected  by  the  elective  colleges  and  an  hereditary 
chamber  of  peers.  This  act  was  accepted  by  the  French 
people,  under  the  influence  of  existing  circumstances; 
but  it  was  not  satisfactory  to  La  Fayette,  who  entered 
his  solemn  protest  against  it,  in  the  same  spirit,  and  from 
the  same  considerations  that  he  did  against  the  consul 
ship  for  life.  But  the  same  college  of  electors  to  which 
he  presented  his  protest,  notwithstanding,  first  chose 
him  their  president,  and  then  their  representative.  The 
emperor  too,  anxious  to  secure  his  influence,  or  at  least 
his  silerfce,  placed  his  name  first  on  the  list  of  peers ;  but 
true  to  his  principles,  he  declined  this,  and  accepted  of 
the  situation  of  representative. 

General  La  Fayette  and  his  son  were  both  returned  as 
deputies  to  the   chamber.     The  emperor  used  all  his 

Y3 


364  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

influence  to  procure^ne  of  the  presidents  of  the  depart 
ments  of  state,  to  be  chosen  president  of  the  chamber; 
but  the  votes  were  divided  between  Lenjuinais  and  La 
Fayette,  and  after  several  ballots,  the  former  was  chosen 
president  and  the  latter  vice-president. 

During  this  short  reign  of  one  hundred  days,  La  Fay- 
ette  had  but  little  confidence  in  the  emperor ;  he  saw  him 
for  the  first  time,  at  the  opening  of  the  session   on  the 
7th  of  June.     "It  is  above  twelve  years  since  we  have 
met,"  said  Napoleon   in  a  very  kind   and    affectionate 
manner.     But  this    had  no  influence  on  La  Fayette. — 
The  defeat  of  the  emperor  at  Waterloo,  and  his  attempt, 
and  that  of  his  personal  friends,  to  prorogue   the  cham 
ber,  and  declare  himself  dictator,  afforded  a  crisis  which 
called  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  patriot  of  '89.     Na 
poleon  arrived  at  Paris,  on  the  night  of  the  20th  of  June, 
and  confirmed  all  that  had  been  feared  as  to  the. defeat 
of  the  army,  and  the  critical  situation  of  the  country. 
The  chamber  was  thrown  into  great  agitation,  not  only 
from  the  approach  of  foreign  armies,  but  from  a   report 
that  the    emperor  was  about  to  dissolve  the  chamber; 
various  propositions  were    moved  and    withdrawn,  and 
no  one  seemed  to  know  what  to  do.     At  length  the  ven 
erable  patriot,  La  Fayette,  arose,  ascended  the  tribune, 
and  addressed  the  chamber — "This  is  the  first  time  that 
I  have  raised  my  voice  within  these  walls,  and  I  feel  the 
necessity  of  opening  my  whole  soul  to  my   colleagues. 
In  a  time  of  public  distress,  the  true  friends  of  liberty 
will  perhaps  recognise  this  voice  which  has  always  been 
raised  in  its  defence,  and  never  has  been   mingled  with 
the  cries  of  faction.     Our  armies  have  suffered    a  re 
verse,  and  our  territory  is   threatened.     It   is  to  you, 
representatives  of  the  people,  that  it  belongs  to  rally  the 
nation  around  the  tri-coloured  banner  of  1789,  that  sa 
cred  standard  which  is  the  signal  of  the  revival  of  liberty, 
independence,  and  public  order.     It  is  to  you  that  it  be 
longs  to  summon  the  whole  nation  to  the  defence  of  its 
rights,  its  independence,  and  its  territory  against  foreign 
usurpation.     A    veteran  of  liberty,  aid,  I  repeat  it,  a 
stranger  to  the  spirit  of  faction,!  am  about  to  propose  to 
you  those  measures  which  our  present  criticar  circum- 
»stances  imperiously  require." 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE,  565 

He  then  submitted  the  following  propositions: — 

"Article  I — The  chamber  of  representatives  declare  that  the  indepen 
dence  of  the  nation  is  endangered. 

"Articled — The  chamber  declare  themselves  in  continued  session;  that 
every  attempt  to  prorogue  the  session  shall  be  considered  high  treason; 
that  anyone  guilty  of  such  attempt  shall  be  deemed  a  traitor  to  his  coun 
try,  and  be  instantly  proceeded  against  as  such. 

"Article  3 — The  army  of  the  line  and  the  national  guards,  who  have 
fought  and  are  still  fighting  for  the  independence  of  France,  deserve  the 
gratitude  of  their  country. 

"Article  4 — The  Minister  of  the  Interior  is  requested  to  assemble  the 
General  Staff,  the  cornmandents  and  Majors  of  the  Legion  of  the  Nation 
al  uuards  of  Paris,  to  consult  on  the  means  of  supplying  tliem  with  arms, 
and  to  render  complete  this  citizen  guard,  whose  patriotism  and  zeal,  hav 
ing  been  proved  for  twenty-six  years,  offer  a  sure  guarantee  of  the  liberty, 
the  property,  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  capitol,  and  of  the  inviolability  of 
the  representatives  of  the  nation. 

"Article  5 — The  Ministers  of  War,  those  of  Foreign  Relations,  of  the 
Interior,  and  of  the  Police,  are  invited  to  attend  the  assembly  immediately." 

These  resolutions  were  adopted  with  some  slight  al 
terations. 

General  La  Fayette  had  been  informed  by  Regnault 
de  St'.  Jean  d'Angely,  and  Thibandeau,  two  of  the  em 
peror's  council,  who  were  opposed  to  this  violent  meas 
ure,  that  it  was  the  intention  of  Napoleon  immediately 
to  dissolve  the  chamber.  It  was  a  great  crisis;  either 
the  emperor  or  the  chamber  must  fall  that  day,  and  the 
courage  and  influence  of  La  Fayette  decided  this  mo 
mentous  question.  The  emperor  was  said  to  be  greatly 
agitated  when  he  was  informed  that  La  Fayette  was 
addressing  the  chamber.  ''What,"  said  he,  "La  Fay 
ette  in  the  tribune?"  He  was  greatly  agitated  and  em 
barrassed  from  the  measures  which  had  been  adopted  in 
the  chamber;  he  hesitated  nearly  the  whole  day  what 
course  to  pursue;  his  friends  were  also  divided  in  their 
opinions;  his  courage  and  firmness  seemed  to  have  for 
saken  him,  and  it  is  said  that  Lucien  told  him,  ''that  the 
smoke  of  the  battle  of  Mount  St.  Jean  had  turned  his 
brain."  It  was  finally  decided  to  send  Lucien  and  three 
of  the  ministers  to  the  chamber,  in  conformity  to  their 
resolution,  to  make  a  partial  exposition  of  the  state  of 
affairs.  Bonaparte  relied,  principally,  on  the  eloquence 
of  Lucien,  to  which  he  was  indebted  for  success  in  the 


56J5  MARqUlb    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 

revolution  of  the  18th  of  Brumal  re,  to  bring  the  chanr- 
ber  into  his  views.  It  was  past  5  o'clock  in  the  evening 
when  the  ministers  and  Lucien  arrived;  the  appearance 
of  the  latter  occasioned  loud  murmurs;  which,  however, 
subsided  on  the  house  being  informed  by  the  president 
that  he  appeared  as  the  commissioner  of  the  emperor. 
The  ministers  made  a  partial  exposition  of  the  state  of 
toffahrs,  of  the  resources  of  the  nation,  and  of  the  hopes 
and  projects  they  still  entertained.  A  short,  but  painful 
silence  ensued,  which  was  interrupted  by  an  animated 
debate,  attended  with  great  agitation.  M.  Duchene, 
and  other  members,  (among  whom  was  Mr.  Jay,  who 
twenty  years  ago  was  well  known  in  Boston,  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Renaud,  as  a  teacher  of  the  French 
language,  and  writer  in  the  public  newspapers,)  took  a 
hasty,  but  spirited  view  of  the  alarming  state  or  affairs, 
the  impossibility  of  opposing  the  advance  of  the  enemy, 
and  concluded,  by  strongly  urging, that,  as  the  allies  had 
refused  to  treat  with  the  man  at  the  head  of  the  govern 
ment,  it  was  a  duty  which  the  chamber  owed  the  nation, 
to  insist  on  the  unqualified  abdication  of  the  emperor. 
This  bold  proposition  had  been  apprehended,  and  to 
resist  which  Lucien  had  attended  the  chamber.  He 
had  exhibited  great  impatience  and  excitement  during 
the  discussion.  His  situation  was  the  most  critical  and 
trying ;  the  power  and  political  existence  of  the  emperor, 
and  all  the  hopes,  and  objects  depending  upon  them, 
\vere  confined  to  him,  and  depended  on  the  success  of 
his  efforts.  He  was  sensible  too,  of  the  disposition  of 
the  chamber,  and  of  the  alarm  which  prevailed  among 
the  members.  At  length  Lucien  arose,  and  ascended 
the  tribune,  and  in  the  doubtful  and  gloomy  light  which 
two  vast  torches  shed  through  the  hall,  and  over  the  anx 
ious  features  of  the  members,  commenced  a  reply.  Mo 
mentous  as  was  the  occasion,  he  was  found  fully  equal  to 
it;  he  never  before  appeared  equally  powerful,  or  poured 
forth  such  a  strain  of  impassioned  and  vehement  elo 
quence.  It  was  a  speech  worthy  the  defence  of  a  throne 
and  a  dynasty.  The  scope  of  his  argument  was  de 
signed  to  prove,  that  the  pretension  of  the  allies,  that 
tfreir  designs  were  directed  against  the  emperor,  and 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  567 

not  against  France,  were  deceptive  and  intended  to 
delude  the  French  people,  and  lead  to  the  subjugation 
of  the  nation;  that  the  people  of  France  were  still  at 
tached  to  the  emperor;  that  momentous  as  was  the  cri 
sis,  the  resources  of  the  country  were  adequate  to  its 
defence,  and  that  the  genius  and  talents  of  the  emperor, 
were  necessary  for  this  object.  He  insisted  that  the 
emperor  was  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  France,  and 
that  to  separate  him  from  the  nation,  would  be  to  deliver 
it  up  to  their  implacable  enemies,  "It  is  not  Napoleon,'* 
he  cried,  "that  is  attacked,  it  is  the  French  people:  and 
a  proposition  is  now  made  to  this  people,  to  abandon 
their  emperor;  to  expos.e  the  French  nation  before  the 
tribunal  of  the  world  to  a  severe  judgment  on  its  levity 
and  inconstancy.  No  sir,  the  honour  of  this  nation  shall 
never  be  so  compromised!"  As  soon  as  this  solemn  dec 
laration  was  made,  La  Fayette  arose,  and  interrupted 
the  speaker.  Standing  in  his  place,  and  without  going 
to  the  tribune,  which  was  contrary  to  the  rules  of  the 
house,  he  observed  in  a  manner  calm  and  dignified, ad 
dressing  himself  to  Lucien,  and  not  to  the  president — 
"The  assertion  which  has  just  been  uttered  is  a  calumny. 
Who  shall  dare  to  accuse  the  French  nation  of  incon 
stancy  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon?  That  nation  ha?; 
followed  his  bloody  footsteps  through  the  sands  of  Egypt, 
and  through  the  wastes  of  Russia;  over  fifty  fields  of 
battle;  as  faithful  in  disaster  as  in  victory;  and  it  is  for 
having  thus  devotedly  followed  him,  that  we  now  mourn 
the  blood  of  three  millions  of  Frenchmen."  These  words 
and  the  solemn  truths  they  conveyed,  made  a  visible 
impression  on  the  chamber,  which  Lucien  perceiving, 
he  bowed  respectfully  to  La  Fayette,  and  sat  down 
without  resuming  his  speech. 

Finally,  a  resolution  was  carried  to  appoint  a  deputa 
tion  of  live  members  from  each  chamber,  to  attend  the 
grand  council  of  ministers  which  was  to  be  held  that 
night  to  determine  on  the  measures  to  be  adopted.  La 
Fayette  was  one  of  the  number.  Carnbaceres,  the  arch- 
chancellor  of  the  empire,  presided  at  the  sitting.  A 
motion  was  made  by  La  Fayette  that  a  deputation,  the. 
next  morning,  wait  on  the  emperor  and  request  his  ab- 


568  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAVETTE. 

dication:  this  motion  the  president  refused  to  put;  but 
it  was  as  much  decided  as  though  it  had  heen  formally 
adopted.  The  following  morning,  the  22d  of  June,  Na 
poleon  sent  to  the  chamber  his  abdication;  and  a  com 
mittee  was  thereupon  appointed,  of  which  La  Fayette 
was  one,  who  went  to  the  Thuilleries,  to  thank  him  for 
it,  in  behalf  of  the  nation.  It  was  this  bold  asserter 
of  the  rights  of  the  people,  also,  who  proposed  that  the 
life  of  Napoleon  should  be  put  under  the  protection  of 
the  Frervch  people.  A  provisional  government  was  es 
tablished,  which  appointed  commissioners,  of  whom  La 
Fayette  was  the  head,  to  treat  with  the  allies  for  the 
suspension  of  hostilities;  but  their  efforts  ware  unavail 
ing,  as  this  did  not  agree  with  their  legitimate  views. 
On  returning  to  the  capital,  he  learned  with  surprise  and 
regret,  that  the  city  had  capitulated,  and  the  army  been 
withdrawn.  The  chamber  continued  in  session  until  the 
7th  of  July,  and  on  the  next  day,  the  doors  being  closed 
by  the  gens  (Farmes,  although  it  is  not  known  by  whose 
orders,  a  number  of  the  deputies  naet  at  the  house  of  La 
Fayette,  from  whence,  at  his  instance,  they  repaired  to 
that  of  the  president,  and  entered  a  formal  protest  aginst 
this  forcible  and  unjust  exclusion,  and  each  one  went  his 
own  way.  Perceiving  that  nothing  more  could  be  done 
to  secure  the  liberties  of  the  people,  La  Fayette  retired 
to  his  estate.  He  did  not,  like  some  of  his  mistaken 
friends  in  America,  hail  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons, 
as  having  rendered  the  "family  of  nations  complete,"  or 
as  a  glorious  termination  of  "the  long  agony"  for  liber 
ty.  He  did  not  acknowledge  the  "legitimacy"  of  a 
dynasty  and  government  established  by  force  and  vio 
lence,  the  invasion  and  subjugation  of  the  country,  by 
foreign  armies;  he  did  not  supplicate  for  favour  or  pre 
ferment;  he  did  not  even  visit  the  king;  and  the  minions 
of  the  "holy  alliance"  knew  him  too  well  to  consult  him, 
or  invite  him  to  take  any  part  in  the  new  government, 
although  many  of  the  creatures  of  Bonaparte  were  em 
ployed. 

Since  this  era,  General  La  FayeUe.  has  remained  in 
retirement,  and  taken  but  little  part  in  public  affairs.— 
He  has  been  twice  returned  a  member  of  the  chamber 


MARQUIS    BE    LA    FAYETTE  569 

of  deputies  since  1817,  in  opposition  to  all  the  influence 
of  the  ministerial  party.  He,  in  general,  has  taken  but 
little  part  in  the  business  of  the  legislature,  believing 
that  he  could  do  no  good.  But  the  plan  of  the  minister 
to  establish  a  censorship  over  the  press,  aroused  the  pat 
riotism  and  spirit  of  this  veteran  of  two  revolutions. — 
He  declared  with  great  energy,  that  the  law  was  incom 
patible  with  even  the  most  limited  freedom,  and  an  out 
rage  on  the  rights  of  the  people;  and  he  "conjured  the 
servants  of  the  crown  to  maintain  the  liberties  of  France 
within  the  limits  prescribed  by  the  constitution.  To 
violate  it,  is  to  dissolve  the  mutual  guarantees  of 
the  nation  and  the  throne;  it  is  to  give  ourselves  up 
to  total  primitive  freedom,  from  all  duties  and  from  all 
laws." 

The  proposed  law  was  adopted  by  a  small  majority; 
which  led  to  the  institution  of  a  society,  consisting  of 
the  members  of  the  opposition,  and  other  liberals,  for  the 
relief  of  those  who  might  suffer  on  account  of  the  un 
just  restrictions  on  the  press.  General  La  Fayette  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  this  society. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

General  La  Fayette  receives  numerous  invitations  to  visit  the  United  States  once  more — 
Resolution  of  congress  on  this  subject— He  arrives  at  New  York — The  reception  he 
has  met  with  by  the  people— Detail  of  the  manner  of  his  reception  by  congress— Ad- 
«fress  of  the  speaker  and  his  reply — Grant  n»de  him  by  congress — His  services  for  A- 
raerica  and  character. 

As  GENERAL  LA  FAYETTE  could  discover  but  little  grat 
ifying  to  him,  in  the  present  political  condition  and  fu 
ture  prospects  of  his  native  country,  for  several  years 
past,  his  heart  seems  to  have  inclined,  with  unusual 
fondness,  to  the  country  of  his  adoption — to  his  dear 
America,  the  theatre  of  his  early  and  successful  strug 
gles  in  the  cause  of  liberty;  where  his  patriotism  and 
services  in  that  sacred  cause  are  duly  appreciated,  and 
where  he  is  honoured,  venerated,  and  almost  adored. — 
Having  signified  to  many  Americans,  and  others,  his 
intentions  of  visiting  the  United  States  once  more,  nu 
merous  public  and  private  letters  were  written  to  him. 
from  this  country.,  expressing  much  satisfaction  at  this 


;)70  ^ARquis  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 


intelligence,  and  the  hope  that  the  citizens  of  the  UniJ 
ted  States  would  soon  be  gratified  by  seeing  among  them 
this  distinguished  friend  of  America  and  great  apostle 
of  liberty.  Among  other  communications  were  letters 
from  the  mayors  of  New-York  and  Boston,  inviting  him 
to  visit  those  cities;  and  in  January,  1824,  congress 
adopted  a  resolution  requesting  the  president  "to  offer 
him  a  public  ship,  for  his  accommodation,  and  to  assure 
him,  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  this  great  republic, 
that  they  cherished  for  him  a  grateful  and  affectionate 
attachment."  This  national  respect,  more  honourable 
perhaps,  than  any  individual  ever  received  before,  under 
similar  circumstances,  he  declined,  probably  from  mo 
tives  of  delicacy;  but  embarked  at  Havre,  (the  port  at 
which  he  had  three  times  before  set  sail  for  the  United 
States,)  in  a  private  vessel,  and  arrived  at  New-York  on 
the  15th  of  August,  1824.  He  was  accompanied  by  his 
son  George  Washington  La  Fayette,  and  his  friend  and 
private  secretary,  M.  Le  Vassieur. 

The  reception  which  General  La  Fayette  met  with 
at  this  commercial  metropolis  of  the  United  States,  and 
in  every  other  town  which  he  has  visited,  or  through 
which  he  has  passed,  has  been  such  as  became  the  free 
citizens  of  the  freest  nation  on  earth,  to  offer  to  the  first 
and  most  venerated  patriot  of  the  age,  and  the  early 
and  undeviating  friend  of  America,  who  bad  sacrificed 
his  fortune  and  his  blood  in  establishing  its  independence 
and  liberty.  Although  he  came  among  us  as  a  private 
individual,  he  has  been  received  as  a  public  or  national 
character,  as  the  guest  of  the  country,  and  honoured  as 
the  distinguished  and  disinterested  benefactor  of  Amer 
ica;  to  whom,  ten  millions  of  freemen  acknowledge  them 
selves  measurably  indebted  for  the  political  privileges 
and  blessings  which  they  enjoy.  No  man  ever  received, 
and'  no  one  can  receive  greater  honour  than  this:  the 
homage  and  gratitude  of  an  entire  nation  ;  unbribed  and 
unbought,  flowing  spontaneously,  the  free-will  offering  of 
the  heart;  a  universal  impulse  which  vibrated  as  the 
pulse  of  the  nation.  To  this  universal  feeling,  mani 
fested  in  a  thousand  ways  and  by  the  strongest  demon 
strations,  there  is  not  a  solitary  discordant  voice;  there 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  57  i 

is  "no  rebellious  string,  that  jars  in  the  grand  chorus 
and  dissents."  All  are  united,  there  is  but  one  senti 
ment,  and  the  wish  of  the  imperial  tyrant  of  Rome 
that  the  Roman  people  had  but  one  neck  that  he  might 
sever  it  at  a  blow,  is  in  some  measure  realized  here,  on 
the  present  occasion,  as  the  American  people  have  but 
one  heart,  and  but  one  voice.  This  honour,  unexampled 
and  distinguished  as  it  is,  does  not  exceed  the  merits  of 
the  individual  who  is  the  subject  of  it,  as  his  character 
and  services  for  America,  are  equally  unexampled. — 
The  moral  grandeur  of  this  scene  is  unequalled,  and  its 
political  influence  must  be  great  and  salutary.  It  is  not 
only  to  the  benefactor  of  America  that  such  distin 
guished  honours  are  offered ;  but  it  is  also  to  the  uniform 
and  consistent  patriot,  and  the  steadfast  and  nndeviating 
friend  of  liberty. 

These  honours  from  the  people,  in  their  individual  and 
primary  character,  called  for  corresponding  conduct 
from  the  nation  in  its  collective  and  corporate  capacity; 
and  the  representatives  of  the  people  have  met  the 
wishes  of  their  constituents,  and  as  the  organs  of  the 
public  will,  have,  in  the  name  of  the  nation,  shown  that 
respect  to  the  distinguished  benefactor  of  the  country, 
which  corresponded  with  the  sentiments  manifested  by 
the  people.  They  have  done  more;  they  have  offered  a 
more  substantial  tribute  of  respect,  and  in  some  meas 
ure  discharged  the  rogations  of  the  nation  to  its  dis 
interested  and  illustrious  benefactor. 

We  cannot,  from  our  prescribed  limits,  follow  General 
La  Fayette  in  his  tour  through  the  United  States,  and 
his  visits  to  the  principal  towns,  and  notice  the  various 
manifestations  of  respect  and  gratitude,  by  addresses, 
illuminations,  military  escorts,  parades,  and  public  en 
tertainments;  besides,  these  details  have  so  recently 
appeared  in  the  public  papers,  that  they  are  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  all,  and  a  repetition  of  them  would  afford  but 
little  interest.  The  respect,  however,  shown  him  by 
congress,  possessing  a  national  character,  is  more  de 
serving  of  notice. 

President  Monroe,  in  his  message  at  the  opening  of 
the  session,  recommended  to  congress  to  make  some 

Z3 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETlfc. 

remuneration  to  General  La  Fayette,  for  his  services 
and  sacrifices  in  the  revolutionary  war,  worthy  the  na 
tional  character.  The  suggestion  of  the  president, 
which  was  in  accordance  with  the  sentiments  of  the 
people,  has  been  very  honourably  followed  up  by  con 
gress,  which  has  manifested  its  respect  and  liberality, 
both  in  a  manner  wholly  unexampled. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  sessio'n,  a  joint  commit 
tee  was  appointed  to  consider  and  report,  what  respect 
ful  mode  it  might  be  proper  for  congress  to  adopt  to  re 
live  Gen.  La  Fayette,  and  to  testify  the  high  gratifica 
tion  which  he  has  afforded,  by  his  present  visit  to  the 
United  States.  The  committee,  on  the  part  of  the 
house,  recommended  the  following  resolutions,  which 
were  unanimously  adopted: — 

"Resolved,  That  the  congratulations  of  this  House  be  publicly  given 
to  General  La  Fayette,  on  his  arrival  in  the  United  States,  in  compliance 
with  the  wishes  of  congress,  and  that  he  be  assured  of  the  gratitude  and 
deep  respect  which  the  House  entertains  for  his  signal  and  illustrious  ser 
vices  in  the  Revolution,  and  the  pleasure  it  feels  in  being  able  to  welcome 
him,  after  an  absence  of  so  many  years,  to  the  theatre  of  his  early  labour? 
and  early  renown. 

"Resolved,  Tirat.  for  this  purpose,  General  La  Fayette  be  invited  by  a 
Committee  to  attend  the  House  on  Friday  next,  atone  o^clock;  that  he  be 
introduced  by  the  Committee,  and  received  by  the  members  standing, 
uncovered,  and  addiessed  by  the  Speaker  in  behalf  of  the  House." 

The  committee,  on  the  part  ofr  the  senate,  recom 
mended  "that  the  president  of  the  senate  invite  General 
La  Fayette  to  take  a  seat,  such  as  he  might  designate, 
in  the  senate  chamber;  that  the  committee  deliver  the 
invitation  to  the  general,  and  introduce  him  into  the  sen 
ate,  and  the  members  to  receive  him  standing.""  This 
resolution  was  unanimously  adopted:  and  about  one 
o'clock  on  the  9th  of  December,  General  La  Fayette 
entered  supported  on  the  left  by  the  Hon.  Mr.  Bar- 
bour,  chairman  of  the  committee,  and  followed  by  the 
rest  of  the  cominitte;  he  was  conducted  to  a  seat 
on  the  right  of  the  president  pro  tern,  the  Hon.  Mr. 
Gaillard,  in  the  presence  of  the  senators,  all  of  whom 
were  standing.  As  he  entered,  Mr.  Barbour  addressed 
the  senate  in  these  words: — "We  present  General  La 
Fayette  to  the  senate  of  the  United  States;"  and  as  he 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE.  573 

advanced  to  the  president's  chair,  the  president  address 
ed  him: — "On  the  part  of  the  senate,  I  invite  you  to  take 
a  seat,"  pointing  to  the  seat  on  the  right  of  th«  chair. 
A  motion  was  then  made,  "that  the  senate  do  now  ad 
journ,  for  the  purpose  of  allowing  the  members,  individ 
ually,  to  pay  their  respects  to  General  La  Fayette;" 
which  was  unanimously  adopted;  and  thereupon  the 
members,  leaving  their  seats,  in  turn  saluted  him,  in  the 
most  cordial  manner. 

This  is  the  iirst  instance,  in  which  an  individual  was 
introduced  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  whilst  in 
session. 

Caesar  never  received  greater  honour  from  the  ser 
vile  senate  of  Rome,  when  his  victorious  legions  sur 
rounded  the  capitol;  but  one  was  the  constrained  horn* 
age  bestowed  on  a  conquerer,  at  the  head  of  a  victorious 
army;  the  other,  the  free  and  spontaneous  honour  shown 
to  a  private  individual,  without  power  .or  influence  to 
command  it,  or  any  other  consideration,  but  his  unexam 
pled  patriotism  and  distinguished  services. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  next  day,  crowds  were  flock 
ing  into  the  galleries  of  the  house  of  representatives, 
and  before  1 J  o'clock  a  concourse  of  ladies  entered  the 
hall  and  took  the  seats  and  sofas  prepared  for  them;  it 
was  found  necessary  to  provide  additional  seats,  and 
soon  the  house  presented  an  exhibition  of  beauty  and 
fashion,  which  it  is  presumed  has  never  been  equalled, 
and  that  gave  a  more  imposing  interest  to  a  scene  nat 
urally  grand  and  affecting.  A  motion  having  been  adop 
ted,  to  invite  the  members  of  the  senate  to  attend  on  the 
occasion,  they  entered  in  procession,  and  took  seats  on 
the  right  of  the  speaker.  At  one  o'clock,  George  Wash 
ington  La  Fayette  and  Colonel  La  Vassieur,  the  secre 
tary  of  the  general,  entered  and  took  seats  by  the  side 
of  the  secretary  of  state ;  and  in  a  few  minutes,  Gener 
al  La  Fayette  entered  the  house,  supported  on  his  right 
by  Mr.  Mitchell,  chairman  of  the  committee,  on  his  left 
by  Mr.  Livingston,  and  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  com 
mittee. 

The  speaker  and  members  then  rose,  and  the  proces 
sion  advanced  towards  the  centre  of  the  house,  when 


574  MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTt. 

Mr.  Mitchell  introduced  General  La  Fayette  in  the  fol 
lowing  words: — uMr.  Speaker — The  select  commit 
tee,  appointed  for  that  purpose,  have  the  honour  to  in 
troduce  General  La  Fayette  to  the  House  of  Representa 
tives." 

General  La  Fayette  being  conducted  to  the  seat  pre 
pared  for  him,  the  speaker,  Mr.  Clay,  arose  and  addres 
sed  him  in  the  following  dignified  and  impressive  man 
ner: — 

"GENERAL: — The  house  of  representatives  of  the  United  States, im 
pelled  alike  by  its  own  feelings,  and  by  those  of  the  whole  American  peo 
ple,  could  net  have  assigned  to  me  a  more  gratifying  duty  than  that  of 
presenting  to  you  cordial  congratulations  upon  the  occasion  of  your  re 
cent  arrival  in  the  United  States,  in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  con 
gress,  and  to  assure  you  of  the- very  high  satisfaction  which  your  presence 
affords  on  this  early  theatre  of  your  glory  and  renown.  Although  but 
few  of  the  members  who  compose  this  body  shared  with  you  in  the  war  of 
our  revolution,  all  have,  from  an  impartial  history,  or  from  faithful  tradi 
tion,  a  knowledge  of  the  perils,  the  sufferings,  and  the  sacrifices  which  you 
voluntarily  encountered,  and  the  signal  services,  in  America  and  Europe, 
which  you  performed  for  an  infant,  a  distant,  arid  an  alien  people;  and  all 
feel  and  own  the  very  great  extent  of  the  obligations  under  which  you 
have  placed  our  country.  But  the  relations  in  which  you  have  ever  stood 
to  the  United  States,  interesting  and  important  as  they  have  been,  do  not 
constitute  tlie  only  motive  of  the  respect  and  admiration  which  the  house 
of  representatives  entertain  for  you.  Your  consistency  of  character,  your 
uniform  devotion  to  regulated  liberty,  in  all  the  vicessitudes  of  a  long  and 
arduous  life,  also  command  its  admiration.  During  all  the  recent  convul 
sions  of  Europe,  amidst,  as  after  the  dispersion  of,  every  political  storm, 
the  people  of  the  United  States  have  beheld  you,  true  to  your  old  princi 
ples,  firm  and  erect,  cheering  and  animating  with  your  well-known  voice, 
the  votaries  of  liberty,  its  faithful  and  fearless  champion,  ready  to  sheo! 
the  last  drop  of  that  blood  which  here  you  so  freely  and  nobly  spilt,  in  the 
same  holy  cause. 

The  vain  wish  has  been  sometimes  indulged,  that  Providence  would 
allow  the  patriot,  after  death,  to  return  to  his  country,  and  to  contemplate 
the  intermediate  changes  which  had  taken  place — to  view  the  forest  felled, 
the  cities  built,  the  mountains  levelled,  the  canals  cut,  the  highways  con 
structed,  the  progress  of  the  arts,  the  advancement  of  learning,  and  in- 
cfease  of  population.  General,  your  present  visit  to  the  United  States  is 
a  realization  of  the  consoling  object  of  that  wish.  You  are  in  the  midst 
of  posterity.  Every  where,  you  must  have  been  struck  with  the  great 
changes,  physical  and  moral,  which  have  occurred  since  you  left  us.  Even 
this  very  city,  bearing  a  venerated  name,  alike  endeared  to  you  and  to  us, 
has  since  emerged  from  the  forest  which  then  covered  its  site.  In  one  re- 
sf>ect  you  behold  us  unaltered,  and  that  it  is  in  the  sentiment  of  continued 
devotion  to  liberty,  and  of  ardent  affection  and  profound  gratitude  to  your 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FAYETTE.  575 

departed  friend,  the  father  of  his  country,  and  to  you,  and  to  your  illustri 
ous  associates  in  the  field  and  in  the  cabinet,  for  the  multiplied  blessings 
which  surround  us,  and  for  the  very  privilege  of  addressing  you,  which  I 
now  exercise.  This  sentiment,  now  fondly  cherished  by  more  than  ten 
millions  of  people,  will  be  transmitted,  with  unabated  vigour,  down  the 
tide  of  iune,  through  the  countless  millions  who  are  destined  to  inhabit 
this  continent,  to  the  latest  posterity." 

While  the  speaker  was  addressing  him,  General  La 
Fayette  was  very  evidently  affected .  At  the  close  of 
the  address,  he  seated  himself  for  a  few  seconds,  and 
then  rose,  and  in  a  tone  influenced  by  powerful  feeling,, 
made  the  following  reply: — 

Mr.  Speaker,  and  Gentlemen 

of  the  House  of  Representatives: — 

While  the  people  of  the  United  States,  and  their  honourable  represen 
tatives  in  congress,  have  deigned  to  make  choice  of  me,  one  of  the  Amer 
ican  veterans,  to  signify,  in  his  person,  their  esteem  for  our  joint  services, 
and  their  attachment  to  the  principles  for  which  we  have  had  the  honour 
to  fight  and  bleed,  I  am  proud  and  happy  to  share  those  extraordinary  fa 
vours  with  ?ny  dear  revolutionary  companions;  yet  it  would  be,  on  my 
3>art,  uncandid  and  Ungrateful  not  to  acknowledge  my  personal  share  in 
their  testimonies  of  kindness,  as  they  excite  in  my  mind  emotions  which 
no  adequate  words  could  express. 

My  obligations  to  the  United  States,  sir,  far  exceed  any  merit  I  might 
ciaim ;  they  date  from  the  time  when  I  have  had  the  happiness  to  be  adop 
ted  as  a  young  soldier,  a  favoured  son  of  America;  they  have  been  contin 
ued  to  me  during  almost,  half  a  century  of  constant  affection  and  confi 
dence;  and  now,  sir,  thanks  to  your  most  gratifying  invitation,  I  find  my 
self  greeted  by  a  series  of  welcomes,  one  hour  of  which  would  more 
than  compensate  for  the  public  exertions  and  sufferings  of  a  whole  life. 

The  approbation  of  the  American  people,  and  their  representatives,  for 
my  conduct  during  the  vicissitudes  of  the  European  revolution,  is  the 
highest  reward  I  could  receive.  Well  may  I  stand  firm  and  erect,  when 
in  their  names,  and  by  you,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  am  declared  to  have,  in  every 
instance,  been  faithful  to  those  American  principles  of  liberty,  equality, 
and  true  social  order,  the  devotion  to  which,  as  it  has  been  from  my  earli 
est  youth,  so  it  shall  continue  to  be  to  my  latest  breath. 

You  have  been  pleased,  Mr.  Speaker,  to  allude  to  the  peculiar  felicity  of 
my  situation,  when,  after  so  long  an  absence,  I  am  called  to  witness  the 
immense  improvements,  the  admirable  communications,  the  prodigious 
creations,  of  which  we  find  an  example  in  this  city,  whose  name  itself  is 
a  venerated  palladium;  in  a  word,  all  the  grandeur  and  prosperity  of  those 
happy  United  States,  who  at  the  same  time  they  nobly  secure  the  complete 
assertion  of  American  independence,  reflect,  on  every  part  of  the  world, 
the  light  of  a  far  superior  political  civilization. 

What  better  pledge  can  be  given,  of  a  persevering  national  love  of  lib 
erty,  when  those  blessings  are  evidently  the  result  of  a  virtuous  resistance 


576         MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

to  oppression,  and  of  institutions  founded  on  the  rights  of  man,  and  tlrtr 
republican  principle  of  self-government. 

No,  Mr.  Speaker,  posterity  has  not  begun  for  me,  since,  in  the  sons  of 
my  companions  and  friends,  I  find  the  same  public  feelings,  and,  permit 
me  to  add,  the  same  feelings  in  my  behalf,  which  I  have -had  the  happiness 
tp  experience  in  their  fathers. 

Sir,  I  have  been  allowed,  forty  years  ago,  before  a  Committee  of  a  Con 
gress  of  thirteen  states,  to  express  the  fond  wishes  of  an  American  heart; 
on  this  day,  I  have  the  honour,  and  enjoy  the  delight,  to  congratulate  the 
Representatives  of  the  Union,  so  vastly  enlarged,  on  the  realization  of 
those  wishes,  even  beyond  every  human  expectation.,  and  upon  the  almost 
infinite  prospects  we  can  with  certainty  anticipate;  permit  me,  Mr,  Speak 
er,  and  gentlemen  of  the  house  of  representatives,  to  join  to  the  expression 
of  those  sentimenis,  a  tribute  of  my  lively  gratitude,  affectionate  devotion, 
and  profound  respect. 

This  scene,  this  simple  and  unstudied  expression  of  a 
nation's  feelings  towards  its  early  and  disinterested  ben 
efactor,  was  truly  affecting  and  sublime;  how  unlike 
the  kingly  pomp,  the  idle  and  ceremonious  pageantry  of 
courts!  it  gives  a  moral  effect  and  grandeur  to  the  repub 
lican  character  and  free  institutions,  which  exalt  them 
far  above  any  thing  which  the  records  of  monarchy  af* 
ford. 

The  noble  sentiments,  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  Rome, 
of  the  address  of  the  speaker,  and  the  reply  of  the  gen 
eral,  were  listened  to  with  the  profoundest  attention ;  the 
deepest  interest  was  manifested;  and  both  on  the  floor, 
and  in  the  galleries,  the  most  unbroken  silence  prevailed  : 
every  eye  was  strained,  and  every  ear  on  the  alert,  that 
not  a  word, nor  a  movement  of  the  countenance  of  the  ven 
erable  object  of  such  unexampled  national  honour,  should 
be  lost. 

As  soon  as  the  general  resumed  his  seat,  a  motion 
was  made  and  adopted  to  adjourn;  and  immediately 
the  speaker  left  tUe  chair,  and  offered  him  his  personal- 
congratulations,  shaking  him  cordially  by  the  hand. — 
This  was  followed,  by  the  speaker's  introducing  all  the 
members  of  the  house  individually  to  the  general,  which 
closed  a  scene  the  most  imposing  in  its  character,  and 
instructive  in  its  effects,  which,  perhaps,  has  ever  been 
witnessed  in  any  age  or  nation. 

But  congress  did  not   stop  here;  they  have   left   on 
record  a  more  substantial  and  imperishable  testimonial 


WARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE. 


577 


of  national  gratitude.  A  committee  was  raised  in  each 
house,  to  consider  and  report  what  provision  it  would 
be  proper  to  make  for  Gen.  La  Fayette;  which  report 
ed  a  bill  granting  to  him  two  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
in  stock  to  be  created  for  that  purpose,  and  a  township 
of  land,  to  be  located  on  any  of  the  unappropriated  lands 
of  the  government.  This  bill,  after  some  slight  opposi 
tion,  which  only  served  to  call  forth  a  disclosure  of  the 
immense  expenditures  and  sacrifice  of  this  veteran  patri 
ot  during  the  six  years  he  was  engaged  in  onr  revolution 
ary  struggle,  was  adopted,  there  being  only  seven  dis 
senting  voices  in  the  senate,  and  twenty-six  in  the  house. 
It  was  stated  by  Mr.  Haynes  in  the  senate,  that  he  had 
documents  in  his  hand,  which  had  been  obtained  with 
out  the  interferance  or  knowledge  of  La  Fayette,  from 
which  it  incontestably  appeared  that  during  six  years  of 
the  American  war,  he  expended  in  the  service  700,000 
francs,  or  140,000  dollars.  This  sum,  at  compound  in 
terest  for  forty-three  years,  would  amount  to  more  than 
a  million  of  dollars.  Mr.  Haynes  also  stated  another 
fact,  highly  honourable  to  the  general.  In  1803,  con 
gress  granted  him  a  tract  of  11,520  acres  of  land,  to  be 
located  in  any  of  the  unappropriated  lands  of  the  gov 
ernment;  and  his  agent  located  1000  acres  in  the  coun 
ty  of  Orleans,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city  of  N.  O.  Without 
attending  to  this  fact,  congress  subsequently  included 
this  tract  in  a  grant  of  land  made  to  that  city.  This 
tract  was  then  worth  50,000  dollars,  and  is  now  said  to 
be  valued  at  500,000.  Notwithstanding  this,  and  al 
though  advised  that  his  title  was  indubitably  valid,  the 
general,  with  singular  delicacy  of  feeling,  immediately 
relinquished  his  claim,  and  caused  a  deed  to  be  recorded, 
remarking,  "that  he  would  not  enter  into  controversy: 
the  act  had  been  gratuitous,  and  congress  best  knew 
what  they  intended  to  bestow." 
The  following  is  the  act: — 

Be  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  of  the  Uni 
ted  States  of  America,  in  Congress  assembled,  That  in  consideration,  of 
the  services  and  sacrifices  of  General  La  Fayette,  in  the  war  of  the  rev6- 
lution,  the  secretary  of  the  treasury  be,  and  he  is  hereby  authorized,  to 
pay  to  him  the  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  dplJars  out  of  any  money  in 
..the  treasury  not  otherwj^e  appropriatedv 


MARQUIS    DE  LA    FA\ 'fcTTE. 

Sec.  2.  And  be  it  further  enacted,  that  there  be  granted  to  the  said  Gen. 
La  Fayette,  and  his  heirs,  one  township  of  land,  to  be  laid  out  and  loca 
ted  under  the  authority  of  the  president,  in  any  of  the  unappropriated 
lands  of  the  United  States. 

H.  CLAY, 
Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 

JOHN  GAILLARD, 
President  of  the  Senate,  pro  tempore. 
Washington,  Dec.  28th,  1'824—- Approved : 

JAMES  MONROE. 

This  grant.,  liberal  as  it  is,  does  not  exceed  the  merits 
of  the  illustrious  patriot,  who  is  the  worthy  object  of  it, 
or  the  wishes  of  the  American  people;  it  is  worthy  the 
national  justice  and  munificence,  and  the  character  and 
services  of  La  Fayette.  In  addition  to  this  and  the 
grant  of  land  in  1803,  already  alluded  to,  in  1794,  when 
he  was  persecuted  and  proscribed  at  home,  his  estates 
confiscated  and  his  family  impoverished;  when  he  was 
the  victim  of  the  vengeance  of  coalesced  kings,  he  was 
not  forgotten  in  America,  and  congress  granted  him  tho 
pay  of  a  major-general,  for  the  period  of  his  service  in 
the  army  of  the  United  States;  he  having  declined  re 
ceiving  any  compensation  at  the  time. 

General  La  Fayette  is  undoubtedly  the  most  interest 
ing  character  now  living;  and  with  the  exception  of  a 
venerated  name,  who  was  his  own  leader  and  guide — 
who  was  "First  in  war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen,"  probably  the  most  interesting 
character  in  the  annals  of  history. 

His  services  for  America,  whether  we  consider  the 
disinterested  and  patriotic  motives  which  produced 
them,  the  great  individual  sacrifices  which  attended 
them,  or  their  important  consequences  to  the  sacred 
cause  of  independence  and  liberty  in  which  they  were 
employed,  are  without  any  example,  and  can  never  be 
sufficiently  appreciated.  Whether  the  American  colo 
nies  alone,  and  unaided  by  any  foreign  assistance,  would 
have  been  able  to  have  sustained  themselves  in  the 
mighty  struggle  with  Great  Britain^  and  to  have  estab 
lished  their  independence,  must  now  for  ever  remain  a 
problem;  but  it  is  evident  that  the  war  could  not  have 
been  brought  to  a  conclusion  at  the  time  and  manner  it 


MARQUIS    DE    LA  .FAYETTE.  679 

was;  for,  to  say  nothing  about  the  assistance  of  the 
French  troops,  amounting  to  above  seven  thousand,  the 
successful  operations  at  Yorktown,  which  so  gloriously 
terminated  the  war,  were  entirely  dependent  oa  the  co 
operation  of  the  French  fleet.  It  was  the  assistance  of 
France,  that  brought  the  revolutionary  struggle  to  a 
close,  and  how  far  we  are  indebted  to  General  La  Fay- 
ette  for  that  assistance,  cannot  now  well  be  determined; 
but  it  is  a  position  by  no  means  extravagant,  that  it  is  to 
his  exertions  and  influence,  directly  and  indirectly,  that 
we  are  to  attribute  the  assistance  afforded  America  by 
France. 

General  La  Fayetle  possesses  the  highest  and  most, 
honourable  character  which  has  ever  adorned  human 
nature,  that  of  a  distinguished,  consistent,  and  undeviating 
PATRIOT  AND  PHILANTHROPIST — the  lover  of  liberty  and 
the  friend  of  mankind. 

The  subjoined  extract  from  Madame  de  Stael,  who 
was  personally  acquainted  with  all  the  distinguished 
characters  who  figured  in  the  French  revolution,  and 
with  the  events  of  that  important  epoch,  is  an  honoura 
ble  testimony  of  the  worth  and  character  of  Gen.  L.a 
Fayette: — 

"M.  de  La  Fayette,  having  fought  from  his  early  youth  for  the  cause  of 
America,  had  early  become  imbued  with  the  principles  of  liberty,  which 
formed  the  basis  of  that  government.  If  he  made  mistakes  with  regard  to 
the  French  revolution,  we  are  to  ascribe  them  all  to  his  admiration  of 
American  institutions,  and  of  Washington,  the  hero  citizen,  who  guided 
the  first  steps  of  th&t  nation  in  the  career  of  independence.  La  Fayette, 
young,  affluent,  of  noble  family,  and  beloved  at  home,  relinquished  all 
these  advantages  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  to  serve  beyond  the  ocean  in  the 
cause  of  that  liberty,  the  love  of  which  has  decided  every  action  of  his  life. 
Had  he  had  the  happiness  to  be  a  native  of  the  United  States,  his  conduct 
would  have  been  that  of  Washington:  the  same  disinterestedness,  the 
same  enthusiasm,  the  same  perseverance  in  their  opinions,  distinguished 
each  of  these  generous  friends  of  humanity.  Had  General  Washington 
been,  like  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  commander  of  the  National  Guards 
of  Paris,  he  also  might  have  found  it  impossible  to  control  the  course  of 
circumstances;  he  also  might  have  seen  fcis  efforts  baffled  by  the  difficulty 
of  being  at  once  faithful  to  his  engagements  to  the  king,  and  of  establish- 
ing  at  the  same  time  the  liberty  of  his  country. 

"M.  de  La  Fayette,  I  must  say,  has  a  right  to  be  considered  as  a  true 
republican:  none  of  the  vanities  of  his  rank  ever  entered  his  head:  pow 
er,  the  effect  of  which  is  »o  great  in  France,  had  no  ascendency  over. Mm: 

A  4 


;>80  MARQUIS    DE   LA    FAYETTE. 

the  desire  of  pleasing  in  a  drawing-room  conversation,  did  not  with  him 
influence  a  single  phrase:  he  sacrificed  all  his  fortune  to  his  opinions,  with 
the  most  generous  indifference.  When  in  the  prisons  of  Olmutz,  as  when 
at  the  heigh't  of  his  influence,  he  was  equally  firm  in  his  attachment  to  his 
principles.  His  manner  of  seeing  and  acting,  is  open  and  direct.  Who 
ever  has  marked  his  conduct,  may  foretell  with  certainty  what  he  will  do 
on  any  particular  occasion. 

"His  political  feeling  is  that  of  a  citizen  of  the  United  States;  and  even 
his  person  is  more  English  than  French.  The  hatred,  of  which  M.  La 
Fayetteis  the  object,  has  never  embittered  his  temper;  and  his  gentleness 
of  soul  is  complete:  at  the  same  time  nothing  has  ever  modified  his  opin 
ions;  and  his  confidence  in  the  triumph  of  liberty,  is  the  same  as  that  of 
a  pious  man  in  a  future  life.  These  sentiments,  so  contrary  to  the  selfish 
calculations  of  most  of  the  men  who  have  acted  a  part  in  France,  may 
appear  pitiable  in  the  eyes  of  some  persons — "it  is  so  silly,"  they  think,  "to 
prefer  one's  country  to  one's  self;  not  to  change  one's  party  when  that 
party  is  worsted;  in  short,  to  consider  mankind,  not  as  cards  with  which 
to  play  a  winning  game,  but  as  the  sacred  objects  of  unlimited  sacrifices.'' 
If  this  is  to  form  the  charge  of  silliness,  would  that  it  were  but  once  mer 
ited  by  our  men  of  talents! 

"It  is  a  singular  phenomenon,  that  such  a  character  as  that  ofM.  de  La 
Fayette,  should  have  appeared  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  French  noblesse- 
but  he  can  neither  be  censured  nor  exculpated  with  impartiality,  without 
being  acknowledged  to  be  such  as  I  have  described  him.  It  then  becomes 
easy  to  understand  the  different  contrasts  which  naturally  arose  between 
his  disposition  and  character.  Supporting  monarchy  more  from  duty  than 
attachment,  he  drew  involuntarily  towards  the  principles  of  the  democrats, 
whom  he  was  obliged  to  resist;  and  a  certain  kindness  for  the  advocates 
of  the  republican  form,  was  perceptible  in  him,  although  his  reflection 
forbade  the  admission  of  their  system  into  France.  Since  the  departure 
of  M.  de  La  Fayette  for  America,  now  forty  years  ago,  we  cannot  quote  a 
single  action  or  a  single  word  of  his,  which  was  not  direct  and  consistent. 
Personal  interest  never  blended  itself  in  the  least  with  his  public  conduct- 
success  would  have  displayed  such  sentiments  to  advantage;  but  they 
claim  the  attention  of  the  historian  in  spite  of  circumstances,  and  in  spite 
of  faults,  which  may  serve  as  a  handle  to  his  opponents." 

We  would  not  wish  to  write  an  eulogium  on  La  Fay 
ette;  he  certainly  requires  none;  a  simple  relation  of 
the  facts,  connected  with  his  life  and  conduct,  is  the 
highest  panegyric  that  can  be  bestowed  on  him;  the 
faithful  page  of  history  will  be  the  proudest  monument 
of  his  fame,  and  sufficiently  substantial  to  sustain  all  the 
laurels  that  adorn  his  name.  It  is  not  on  the  extraordi 
nary  talents  he  has  displayed,  or  the  brilliancy  of  any 
particular  action  or  event;  it  is  not  on  the  number  of 
pitched  battles  he  has  fought,  or  the  victories  he  has 
won,  that  his  reputation  depends.  It  rests  pa  a  more 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  581 

substantial  and  noble  basis— private  worth  and  public 
virtue.  There  have  been  greater  generals  and  orators 
in  almost  every  age;  and  there  were  many  greater, or 
at  least  more  fortunate,  among  the  distinguished  char 
acters  which  the  memorable  revolution  in  his  own  coun 
try  called  forth.  But  the  powers  of  his  mind,  and  the 
adequacy  of  his  talents  to  any  service,  whether  in  the 
civil  or  military  concerns  of  government,  are  sufficiently 
established  from  the  fact,  that  he  sustained  the  very  lirst 
rank,  and  perhaps  more  influence  than  any  other  indi 
vidual,  among  that  brilliant  galaxy  of  genius  and  talents 
which  irradiated  the  horizon  of  France  during  the  ear 
ly  part  of  the  French  revolution.  To  be  in  the  first 
rank,  if  not  the  very  first,  among  such  an  assemblage  of 
learning  and  eloquence,  is  sufficient  to  establish  his 
claim  to  superiority.  But  it  is  certain  that  in  the  pro 
gress  of  the  revolution,  there  appeared  individuals  pos 
sessed  of  greater  learning  and  talents;  greater  orators, 
statesmen,  and  warriors;  yet,  nevertheless, there  is  no 
one  who  has  gone  through  that  mighty  ordeal  with  a 
reputation  that  will  in  any  respect  compare  with  his.  It 
is  true  that  many  of  the  greatest  and  best  men  were  cut 
off  by  the  guillotine;  but  of  those  who  survived  the 
restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  which  ended  the  revolution 
ary  period,  La  Fayette  seems  to  have  been  almost  the 
only  one,  among  the  distinguished  actors,  who  has  pass 
ed  through  this  long  and  eventful  period,  so  fruitful  in 
dangers  and  trials,  with  an  unsullied  reputation;  who 
ended  with  the  same  principles  with  which  they  com 
menced,  and  maintained  a  perfect  consistency  of  char 
acter.  If  there  is  any  other,  it  must  be  Carnot;  and  he 
yielded,  in  some  measure,  to  the  usurpation  of  Bona 
parte,  but  not  until  his  country  was  about  to  be  invaded 
by  foreign  armies,  which  threatened  a  greater  evil  to 
France  and  obstacle  to  the  liberties  of  the  people,  than 
existed  in  the  despotism  of  Napoleon,  by  the  restoration 
of  the  Bourbons. 

La  Fayette  possessed  the  same  political  principles, 
the  same  attachment  to  freedom,  the  same  sacred  regard 
to  the  rights  of  the  people,  and  steady  adherence  to  the 
cardinal  basis  of  civil  liberty,  resting  on  free  institutions. 


MARQUIS    1>E  LA    FAYETTE. 

under  all  circumstances,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic; 
as  a  volunteer  in  the  struggle  of  a  distant  and  alien  peo 
ple  for  their  political  rights;  in  success  and  a  popularity 
never  equalled;  in  the  sudden  loss  of  that  popularity, 
followed  by  proscription  and  exile;  and  he  has  exhibited 
the  same  confidence  in  his  principles  and  professions,  the 
same  integrity  of  purpose,  in  glory  and  in  suffering,  in 
popularity  and  in  power,  and  in  proscription  and  dis 
grace.  When  directing  the  revolution  or  the  victim  ef 
its  injustice  and  violence,  he  ^has  maintained  the  same 
tone,  the  same  air,  the  same  open  confidence  amidst  the 
ruins  of  the  Bastile,  in  the  Champ  de  Mars,  under  the 
despotism  of  Bonaparte,  and  in  the  dungeons  of  Olmutz." 
It  is  the  character  of  a  consistent,  uniform,  and  incor 
ruptible  patriot^  or  rather  the  services  he  has  performed, 
and  the  sacrifices  he  hasmade,  which  afford  the  evidence 
of  this  character,  on  which  the  magnificient  fabric  of  his 
reputation  rests;  this  is  a  foundation  which  time  will 
not  impair;  and  the  fame  which  it  supports,  undimmed 
by  age,  will  shine  brighter  and  brighter  as  long  as  lib 
erty  has  an  abode  on  earth,  or  virtue  is  revered. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  La  Fayette,  like  most  others, 
is  in  some  degree  indebted  to  fortune,  for  his  extraordi 
nary  character.  He  lived  in  the  most  eventful  period, 
and  one  the  most  important  to  the  destinies  of  mankind, 
comprising  that  portion  of  time  when  philosophy  applied 
to  the  nature  and  end  of  government,  made  mankind 
acquainted  with  their  political  rights,  and  in  which,  as 
a  consequence  thereof,  the  great  struggle,  so  interesting 
to  the  human  race,  commenced  between  the  oppressors 
and  the  oppressed ;  between  the  people,  for  the  right  of 
self-government,  and  those  who  claim  the  prerogative  of 
governing  them,  according  to  "legitimate?'  principles; 
who  claim  an  interest  and  inheritance  in  them ; — a  strug 
gle  whicli  has  been  crowned  with  success  in  America, 
made  great  progress  in  Europe,  and  which  will  not 
cease,  although  it  may  be  apparently  suppressed,  until 
all  the  nations  of  that  portion  of  the  earth  shall  become 
tree. 

Among  all  the  individuals,  who  have  taken  a  distin 
guished  part  in  the  events  of  this  period,  no  man,  it  is 


MARQUIS    DE    LA    FAYETTE, 

believed,  with  one  illustrious  exception,  will  leave  a  rep 
utation  so  dear  to  the  friends  of  freedom,  as  La  Fay- 
ette.  And  in  one  respect  his  character  has  no  example: 
he  alone,  during  this  important  epoch,  has  acted  a  dis 
tinguished  part  in  two  hemispheres,  and  exerted  a 
leading  and  controlling  influence  in  the  two  mighty  revo* 
lutions  by  which  this  period  is  distinguished,  which,  from 
their  moral  and  political  influence,  are  the  most  impor 
tant  events  in  the  annals  of  the  world.  To  have  acted 
an  important  part  in  one,  and  a  commanding  part  in  the 
other,  of  the  two  most  conspicuous  struggles  for  liberty 
which  have  ever  occurred,  is  a  circumstance  so  extraor 
dinary  as  would  of  itself  confer  great  celebrity:  but  to 
have  acted  from  the  purest  and  most  disinterested  pat 
riotism ;  to  have  sacrificed  a  princely  fortune;  to  have 
been  the  victim  of  injustice  and  proscription,  for  a  faith 
ful  adherance  to  principle;  to  have  endured  the  severest 
sufferings;  and  to  have  passed  through  these  momentous 
struggles,  abounding  in  difficulties  and  trials,  with  per 
fect  consistency  of  principle,  a  steady  adherence  to  his 
original  objects,  and  without  a  stain  on  his  escutcheon,  is 
what  constitute  the  chief  glory  and  renown  of  the  man 
who  is  the  subject  of  these  remarks. 

Who  has  done  more,  who  has  suffered  more  in  the 
cause  of  freedom?  Who  has  been  more  consistent  and 
uniform  in  the  pursuit  of  the  only  worthy  object  of  human 
ambition,  that  of  benefiting  mankind?  And,  notwith 
standing  the  failure  of  the  immediate  object  of  the  strug 
gle  in  France,  it  may  also  be  asked,  who  has  accom 
plished  more  in  this  sacred  cause?  To  whom,  then,  is 
the  world  more  indebted  ?  Who  ought  to  be  more  revered 
by  the  friends  of  liberty?  Not  only  the  prime  of  his 
days,  but  his  early  youth  and  declining  years  have  been 
devoted  to  subserve  the  interests  of  humanity.  The 
glowing  patriotism  of  the  young  volunteer  of  nineteen, 
was  matured  by  his  meridian  sun,  and  is  now  scarcely 
less  ardent,  under  the  chilling  influence  of  age.  The 
corrupting  influence  of  a  long  participation  in  public 
affairs,  and  the  cold,  calculating  policy  of  age,  have 
produced  no  effect  on  him.  Neither  triumphs  nor  suffer 
ings,  the  rage  of  persecutions,  of  demagogues,  or  the 


584  MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE. 

cruelties  of  despots,  the  temptations  of  power,  or  the 
provocation  of  unjust  suffering,  have  had  any  influence 
on  his  principles.  He  is  the  same  patriot  now,  and  al 
most  as  sanguine  in  his  hopes,  as  when  fighting  the  bat 
tles  of  America,  or  directing  the  French  revolution,  lit 
erally  "a  tempestuous  sea  of  liberty."  After  nearly  half 
a  century,  devoted  to  the  interests  of  humanity  and  the 
cause  of  civil  liberty,  in  two  hemispheres,  he  may  well 
be  regarded  as  the  "veteran  patriot,"  and  as  the  "great 
apostle  of  liberty." 

Since  he  has  been  among  us,  in  his  answers  to  public 
addresses.,  and  in  the  toasts  he  has  given  at  public  enter 
tainments,  we  perceive  the  same  principles,  the  same 
love  of  liberty,  and  apparently,  the  same  confidence  in 
its  ultimate  triumph,  not  only  in  France,  but  throughout 
Europe,  which  influenced  his  conduct  through  a  long  and 
active  life.  It  is  true  he  has  not  since  his  return  to 
France,  taken  an  active  part  to  promote  the  freedom  of 
his  country ;  he  has  not  attempted  to  make  himself  a 
tribune  of  the  people,  or  to  stir  up  commotions,  being  as 
little  inclined  to  faction  as  to  despotism ;  and  he  has  be* 
lieved  that  neither  the  military  usurpation  of  Bonaparte^ 
nor  the  revival  of  the  feudal  despotism  by  the  Bourbons, 
afforded  favourable  opportunities  to  attempt  to  combine 
the  elements  of  freedom,  which  exist  in  France;  he  has 
been  contented  to  wait  the  slow,  but  sure  progress  of 
public  opinion,  being  persuaded  that  the  operation  of 
this  will  not  fail  in  due  time  of  producing  the  emancipa 
tion  of  his  country.  To  this  event,  as  xMadame  de  Stael 
has  well  observed,  "he  looks  forward  with  the  same 
hope,  the  same  consoling  confidence,  as  a  pious  man  does 
to  a  future  state  of  existence  and  felicity." 

Such  is  the  life  and  character  of  the  man  who  is  now 
on  a  visit  to  the  United  States,  as  the  "guest  of  the  na 
tion,"  and  on  the  invitation  of  the  nation;  but,  although 
it  is  the  same  nation,  it  is  not  the  same  people  with  whom 
he  fought  and  bled;  almost  the  entire  population,  then 
on  the  stage,  has  past  away ;  the  ten  millions  of  freemen, 
which  greeted  his  arrival,  and  who,  wherever  he  goes, 
offer  him  the  sincere  tribute  of  grateful  hearts,  nearly  all 
belong  to  a  new  generation,  which  have  come  on  the 


MARQUIS  DE  LA  FAYETTE.  585 

stage  of  action  since  that  great  struggle,  in  which  he 
acted  so  prominent  and  useful  a  part.  It  cannot,  certainly 
be  a  matter  of  surprise,  that  there  is  an  universal  inter 
est  and  curiosity  manifested  to  see  such  an  individual — 
a  man  who  has  acted  a  prominent  part  in  the  most  im 
portant  concerns  and  events  of  half  a  century  past — 
To  see  such  a  character  is,  as  was  remarked  by  Mr. 
Speaker  Clay,  "like  seeing  and  conversing  with  one  from 
the  dead;"  is  as  beholding  one  of  the  grave  actors  in 
the  great  events  of  which  history  informs  us;  it  is  almost 
the  same  as  would  be  the  appearance  of  one  of  Plu 
tarch's  heroes  on  the  earth.  These  considerations  alone 
are  sufficient  to  render  him  an  object  of  the  greatest  cu 
riosity  and  interest;  but  is  it  not  from  these  circumstan 
ces  that  he  is  welcomed  and  greeted  with  the  admira 
tion  and  gratitude  of  the  entire  population  of  the 
country ;  these  feelings  proceed  from  causes  that  make 
a  deeper  and  more  lasting  impression  on  the  heart ;  from 
his  character  as  a  disinterested  and  distinguished  patriot 
and  sincere  friend  of  liberty;  but  chiefly  from  his  hav 
ing  been  the  benefactor  of  America,  and  having  devoted 
his  fortune  and  his  blood  to  establish  its  independence 
and  freedom,  the  acknowledged  sources,  from  whence 
flow  the  fertilizing  streams  of  public  and  private  pros 
perity,  which  happily  distinguish  our  country  above  all 
others  on  earth. 

General  La  Fayette  constantly  speaks  of  himself  as 
an  American  citizen,  which  it  is  well  known  he  is;  and 
he  hafc  exhibited  abundant  proof  that  he  takes  as  lively 
and  deep  interest  as  any  native  citizen  can  do,  in  the 
success  of  our  institutions  and  the  prosperity  of  the  coun 
try  ;  and  it  has  even  been  supposed  that  he  intends  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  here;  but  he  has  given 
no  such  intimation,  nor  is  it  probable ;  for  however  much 
more  interest  he  may  feel,  in  the  institutions,  aad  even 
in  the  people  of  his  adopted,  than  in  those  of  his  native 
country,  it  is  natural  that  he  should  wish  to  close  the 
evening  of  his  life  in  the  midst  of  his  numerous  descen 
dants,  and  to  leave  his  bones  to  repose  with  those  of  fate 
ancestors. 


BIOGRAPHY 

OF 
OFFICERS  PROIVI  FOREIGN  COUNTRIES 

COMMISSIONED    BY   CONORESS*. 

KOSCIUSKO, 

THE  American  revolutionary  contest  is  memorable,  for  having 
called  into  its  service  the  aid  of  many  distinguished  foreigners, 
soldiers  of  liberty,  and  volunteers  in  the  cause  of  an  oppressed 
people,  struggling  to  defend  their  liberties.  Among  the  most  cel 
ebrated  of  these,  was  Kosciusko,  one  of  the  first  and  bravest  of 
the  Polish  patriots.  Although  it  does  not  appear  that  he  performed 
much,  or  any  very  important  service,  in  the  -American  war,  yet 
from  his  distinguished  character  as  a  patriot,  and  the  noble  strug 
gles  he  has  made,  in  defence  of  the  independence  of  his  own 
country,  and  to  realize  the  last  hopes  of  its  friends,  a  sketch  of  his 
life  cannot  but  be  interesting,  and  properly  belongs  to  a  work  con 
taining  the  memoirs  of  the  military  heroes  of  the  American  revo 
lutionary  war.  This  high-minded  patriot  was  first  distinguished 
in  the  war  which  terminated  in  the  first  dismemberment  of  Poland 
by  Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia. 

Poland  had  long  been  distracted  with  dissensions,  often  breaking 
out  into  civil  war;  and  particularly  since  the  conquest  of  the  coun 
try  by  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden,  which  led  to  the  interference  of 
Russia,  and  afterward  that  dangerous  neighbour  always  had  a 
strong  party  in  Poland,  and  generally  a  ct)ntro41wig  influerf^e. — 
Charles  XII.  conquered  Augustus,  and  compelled  him  to  abdicate 
in  favour  of  Stanislaus  LeczinsJd,  whom  he  had  previously  caused 
to  be  elected  king.  The  armies  of  the  Czar,  which  Augustus  had 
availed  himself  of,  had  not  been  sufficient  to  save  him  from  this 
humiliating  result.  The  battle  of  Pultowa  overthrew  the  po\icr 
of  Charles;  and  Augustus  was  restored  by  the  aid  of  Russia,  the 
latter  taking  care  to  be  well  paid  for  its  friendly  interference. 
During  the  reign  of  this  prince,  and  his  son,  Augustus  II.  Poland 
was  little  better  than  a  Russian  province,  surrounded  by  Russian 
troops;  and  the  country  torn  to  pieces  by  contentions  among  the 
jnobles,  they  were  kept  on  the  throne  only  by  the  power  of  Russia. 

On  the  death  of  Augustus  II.  in  1764,  Catharine  II.  Empress  of 
Russia,  compelled  the  Diet  to  elect  Stanislaus  Poniatowski,  a  Pole 
af  noble  rank,  who  had  resided  for  some  time  at  Petersburgh,and 

B4 


588  KOSCI'USKO. 

made  himself  agreeable  to  the  empress,  who  supposed   that  hfe 
election  would  promote  the  influence  and  designs  of  Russia.    Th* 
increased  the  disorders,  and  inflamed  the   rage  of  the  two  great 
parties,  the  Russian  and  anti-Russian,  towards  each  other.     At  this 
time,  to  their  political  causes   of  dissension,  were  added  those  of 
religion.     The  protestants,who  in  Poland  were  called  dissidents, 
had  long  been  tolerated,  but  still  suffered  under  many  civil  disabil 
ities,  which  were  greatly  increased  by  a  decree   that  was  passed 
during  the  interregnum  that  preceded  the  election  of  Poniatowski- 
They  were,  in  a  great  measure,  denied  the  free  exercise  of  religious 
worship,  ami  excluded  from  all   political  privileges.     This  unjust 
nnd  impolitic  measure  roused  the  spirit  of  the   Protestants;  they 
petitioned  and  remonstrated ;  they  applied  to  the  courts  of  Russia, 
Prussia,  Great   Britain,  and  Denmark,  all  of  which  remonstrated 
to  the  government  of  Poland,  but  without  any  essential  effect. — 
Some  unimportant  concessions  were  made,  which  did  not  satisfy 
the  dissidents,  who  were  determined  to  maintain  their  rights  with 
their  blood,  being  encouraged  to  this  determination  by  assurance 
of  support  from  Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia.  The  Catholics  were 
not  behind  their  opponents  in  preparations  for  war,  and  the  "Con 
federation  of  theBarr"  formed  the  bulwark  of  their  strength  and 
hopes.     With  both  parties,  religion  and  liberty  became  the  watch 
word   and  a  signal  for  war.     The  confederates,  as    the    Catholics 
were  denominated,  not  only  wished  to  overcome   their  opponents, 
but  to  dethrone  Stanislaus,  and  rescue  the  country  from  the  influ 
ence  of  Russia.     This  desperate  civil  war  was  very  gratifying  to 
the  ambitious  neighbours  of  Poland,  who,  a  considerable  time  be-* 
fore,  had  entered  into  a  secret  treaty  for  the  conquest  and  partition 
of  Poland.     The  armies  of  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria  invaded 
the  country  in  various  directions,  and  seized  on  different  provinces. 
The  confederates, or  the  anti-Russian  party,  comprising  most  oi- 
the  distinguished  Polish  patriots,  made  a  resolute  and  determined 
struggle;  but,  being  feebly  supported  by  Saxony  and  France, and 
having  to  contend  with  numerous  forces  of  the  coalition  which  in 
vaded  the  country,  as  well  as  those  of  their  opponents  at  home, 
they  were  defeated  in  every  quarter,  and  the  country  left  a  prey 
to  the  three  royal  plunderers.     They  issued  a  manifesto, declaring 
that  the  dissensions  and  disorders  of  Poland  had  rendered  their 
interference  necessary,  and  that  they  had  adopted  combined  meas 
ures  for  the  re-establishment  of  good  order  in  Poland,  and  the  set 
tlement  of  its  ancient  constitution,  and  to  secure  the  national  and 
popular  liberties  of  the  people  on  a  solid  basis.     But  the  security 
and  protection  which  they  afforded  to  unhappy  Poland,  was  like 
that  which  the  wolf  affords  to  the  lamb,  and  the  tears  they  shed 
over  her  misfortunes,  were  like  those  of  the  crocodile  when  prey 
ing  on  its  victim.     Instead  of  securing  .the  rights  of  the  dissidents, 
which  was  the  professed  object  of  the  war,  the  combined  sovereigns 
thought  only  of  aggrandizing  themselves;  and,  after  great  difficul- 


KOSCIUSKO,  #89 

ty,  they  finally  succeeded  in  dividing  the  spoil,  a  treaty  for  the 
partition  of  Poland  being  concluded  at  Petersburgh,  in  February, 
1772,  Russia  took  a  large  proportion  of  (he  eastern  provinces;  Aus 
tria  appropriated  to  herself  a  fertile  tract  on  the  southwest,  and 
Prussia  the  commercial  district  in  the  northwest,  including  the 
lower  part  of  Vistula;  leaving  only  the  central  provinces,  compri 
sing  Warsaw  and  Cracow,  the  modern  and  ancient  capital.  Thus 
was  Poland  despoiled  by  three  royal  robbers,  which  Europe  wit 
nessed,  not  without  astonishment,  but  without  any  effectual 
interference.  The  courts  of  London,  Paris,  Stockholm-,  and  Co 
penhagen,  remonstrated  against  this  violent  usurpation,  which 
probably  had  as  much  effect  as  was  expected — none  at  all. 

In  this  unjust  and  cruel  war,  Kosciusko  had  taken  an  active  and 
zealous  part  in  defence  of  the  independence  of  his  country;  but 
his  patriotism  and  exertions  were  unavailing;  the  patriotic  Poles 
could  not  resist  the  power  of  faction  and  the  invading  armies  of 
thrte  formidable  neighbours.  To  strengthen  their  acquisition?, 
the  allied  powers  insisted  on  Stanislaus  convoking  a  diet  to  sanction 
the  partition;  and,  notwithstanding  the  influence  of  three  powerful 
armies,  the  diet  refused  to  ratify  this  injustice  for  a  considerable 
time;  but,  by  promises  of  favours,  and  by  profuse  use  of  money 
among  the  members,  together  with  the  influence  of  military  force, 
a  majority  of  six  in  the  senate,  and  of  one  in  the  assembly,  was  at 
length  obtained  in  favour  of  the  iniquitous  measure,  and  commis 
sioners  were  appointed  to  adjust  the  terms  of  the  partition.  This 
completed  the  humiliation  and  degradation  of  Poland,  and  occa 
sioned  many  of  her  most  distinguished  patriots  to  leave  their  dis 
membered  and  unhappy  country.  This  took  place  in  May,  1772. 
Kosciusko  was  among  those  who  retired  from  the  country. 

The  war  that  broke  out  between  the  American  colonies  and 
Great  Britain,  opened  a  field  for  military  adventurers  from  Europe, 
it  being  supposed  that  America  was  destitute  of  men  of  military 
science  and  experience,  and  being  justly  regarded  as  a  contest  for 
liberty,  between  an  infant  people,  few  in  number,  and  with  feeble 
means,  and  the  most  powerful  nation  on  earth,  many  patriots  of 
the  old  woiid  repaired  to  America  as  volunteers  in  the  cause  of 
freedom.  The  first  events  and  successes  of  the  contest,  and  the 
dignified  attitude  assumed  by  the  solemn  declaration  of  indepen 
dence,  produced  the  most  favourable  impression  abroad,  which 
brought  many  distinguished  foreigners  to  our  shores  in  the  early 
part  of  the  year  1777.  The  distinguished  Polish  patriot,  who  is 
the  subject  of  this  brief  notice,  and  his  countryman,  Count  Pulas- 
Id,  were  among  the  number.  It  is  not  known  at  what  time  either 
of  them  arrived,  but  it  is  believed  it  was  early  in  the  year  '77,  as 
the  latter  was  present  and  distinguished  himself  in  the  battle  oi 
Brandy  wine.  So  many  foreigners  of  distinction  arrived,  that  Con 
gress  was  embarrassed  in  giving  them  employment,  corresponding 
with  tbeir  expectations  and  rank;  and,  from  the  commissions 


09Q  KOSC1USKO. 

•which  were  giren  to  foreigners,  disagreeable  jealousies.  ivSTe  pro 
duced  among  the  native  officers  of  the  continental  army.  Kosci- 
usko,  like  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  and  others,  had  been  influ 
enced  wholly  by  patriotic  motives  and  an  ardent  attachment  to 
liberty,  he  had  no  occasion  to  acquire  military  fame,  and  he  pos^ 
sessed  a  soul  which  raised  him  infinitely  above  becoming  a  merce 
nary  soldier.  He  wanted  neither  rank  nor  emolument;  his  object 
was  to  serve  the  cause,  not  to  serve  himself.  He  however  received 
a  ColoneFs  commission,  and  was  employed  under  General  Greene, 
in  the  southern  campaign  of  '81.  In  the  attack  on  Ninety-Six,  a 
very  strong  post  of  the  enemy  in  South  Carolina,  Kosciusko  being 
a  skilful  engineer,  Greene  intrusted  to  him  the  important  duty  of 
preparing  and  constructing  the  works  for  the  siege.  He  continued 
in  the  service  until  after  the  capture  of  Cornwall!?  at  Yorktown. 
•which  terminated  all  the  important  operations  of  the  war. 

On  leaving  America,  Kosciusko  returned  to  his  native  country, 
where  he  exerted  himself  for  the  improvement  of  the  political  con 
dition  of  his  countrymen,  and  promoting  the  general  prosperity. 
Stanislaus  exerted  himself  to  impiovc  what  territory  was  left  him 
hy  his  friendly  neighbours;  a  taste  for  agriculture  was  cherished, 
the  condition  of  the  peasantry,  who  had  been  so  long  enslaved' 
and  degraded,  was  raised,  and  a  nationals  ystem  of  education  estab 
lished.  But  the  most  important  improvement  was  in  the  constitu 
tion  of  the  state.  The  disorders  and  factions  which  had  so  long 
and  so  unhappily  prevailed,  had  convinced  all  enlightened  patriots, 
that  the  existing  constitution  was  the  fertile  source  of  their  inter 
nal  dissensions;  and  that  it  was  incompatible  with  the  tranquillity 
or  prosperity  of  the  country.  After  repeated  attempts,  the  diet 
\$  1791,  succeeded  in  establishing  a  new  constitution,  on  just  and 
liberal  principles,  so  wisely  framed  that  Mr.  Burke  commended  it, 
"by  saying,  that  the  condition  of  all  was  made  better,  and  the  rights 
of  none  infringed. 

But  the  prosperity  and  hopes  which  these  improvements  were 
calculated  to  afford,  were  soon  dissipated.  Poland  was  again 
destined  to  become  the  victim  of  the  "she  bear"  of  the  north.  A 
few  of  the  nobles,  disailected  at  the  new  constitution,  which  had 
deprived  them  of  some  of  their  privileges,  presented  their  com 
plaints  to  the  court  of  Petersburg!!,  which,  glad  of  a  pretext  fop 
interfering  in  the  affairs  of  Poland,  immediately  marched  a  nu 
merous  army  into  the  country,  for  the  ostensible  object  of  re-es 
tablishing  the  constitution  of  1775?.  But  the  real  design?  of  Rus-.. 
tiia  were  too  apparent  to  be  mistaken;  and  the  Poles  did  not  delay 
in  making  preparations  for  hostilities.  This  base  aggression,  and 
the  remembrance  of  her  former  rapacity,  aroused  the  nation  to  a 
sense  of  its  danger;  all  dissensions  and  animosities  were  forgotten 
in  the  common  struggle;  a  spirit  worthy  the  occasion  was  excited, 
and  every  class  and  rank  were  resolved  to  conquer  or  die  in  de- 
of  the  independence  and  liberties  of  their  country* 


KOSCIUSKO.  591 

nobles  presented  their  plate  and  valuable  jewels  to  enrich  the 
treasury,  and  afford  the  means  of  carrying  on  the  war.  The 
prince  Poniatowski,  nephew  of  the  king,  and  Kosciusko,  were  at 
the  head  of  the  armies,  and  displayed  prodigies  of  valour.  But 
with  all  their  exertions,  bravery,  and  perseverance,  they  were 
unable  to  resist  the  power  of  Russia,  whose  armies  were  almost 
every  where  successful.  And  being  threatened  by  the  empress 
with  a  devastation  of  the  country,  if  he  made  further  resistance, 
and  that  she  would  double  her  present  force,  Stanislaus,  to  pre 
vent  further  effusion  of  blood,  surrendered  at  discretion,  and  was 
conveyed  to  Grodno,  to  await  the  decision  of  the  conqueror. 
Neither  the  king  nor  the  nation  were  long  kept  in  suspense,  for 
soon  the  courts  of  Russia  and  Prussia  promulgated  a  manifesto, 
declaring  their  intention  of  annexing  to  their  dominions  several 
of  the  adjoining  provinces  of  Poland.^  This  was  early  in  the 
year  1793. 

Not  satisfied  with  their  former  spoliations,  the  King  of  Prussia 
and  Empress  of  Russia  resolved  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  govern 
ment,  which  they  believed  too  heavy  for  Stanislaus  to  sustain,  by 
a  second  partition  of  his  kingdom.  Accordingly  the  latter  seized 
on  the  country  from  the  Dwina  to  the  Neister;  and  assuming  the 
civil  government  of  the  territory,  the  inhabitants  were  ordered  to 
take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  her  Imperial  Majesty,  or  abandon 
the  conquered  district;  and  the  King  of  Prussia,  not  to  be  behind 
his  ally  in  a  neighbourly  regard  for  Poland,  wrested  from  it  several 
provinces,  besides  the  cities  of  Dantzic  and  Thorn.  These  high 
handed  depredations  were  made  with  the  assent  of  the  Emperor 
of  Austria,  and  pretended  to  be  necessary  precautions  against  the 
contagion  ofjacobinal  principles,  which  might  otherwise  infect 
their  dominions  bordering  on  Poland.  Again  a  diet  was  convoked, 
and  compelled,  by  military  power,  to  sanction  this  second  parti 
tion  of  the  Polish  dominions*  The  Russian  ambassador  informed 
the  diet,  "that  to  prevent  any  kind  o.f  disorder,  he  had  caused  two 
battalions  of  grenadiers,  with  four  pieces  of  cannon,  to  surround 
the  castle  to  secure  the  tranquility  of  their  deliberations."  But 
although  the  country  had  been  rent  in  pieces,  the  spirit  of  the 
nation  was  not  destroyed ;  and  as  long  as  a  particle  remained,  such 
injustice  and  violence  was  calculated  to  call  it  into  action.  The 
nation  was  roused,  and  the  patriotism  of  the  Polish  nobles  was 
once  more  called  forth.  It  was  readily  perceived  that  nothing 
could  be  done  withputa  leader,  and  the  eyes  of  all  were  directed 
to  Kosciusko,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Saxony,  with  Potocki,  Ko- 
Jontay  and  Zajonzek.  These  four  resoluta  patriots  rejoiced  at 
the  spirit  of  resistance  to  oppression  which  was  roused  among 
their  countrymen,  and  were  prepared  to  exert  all  their  energies, 
and  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  their  blood,  for  the  independence  and 
freedom  of  their  oppressed  and  much  injured  country.  Zajonzek 
was  despatched  to  Warsaw,  to  learn  the  state  of  affairs,  to  confer 


592  KOSCIUSKO. 

with  the  chief  malecontents,  and  concert  the  plan  oi'  operation^ 
And  in  the  mean  time  Kosciusko  repaired  to  the  frontiers,  and 
anxiously  waited  the  result  of  this  mission.  It  was  determined  to 
make  an  attempt  to  rescue  the  country  from  the  slavery  of  Russian 
domination;  but  suspicions  of  the  design  having  been  excited,  it 
was  thought  advisable  that  no  movements  should  be  made  at  that 
time,  Kosciusko  retired  to  Italy  for  greater  safety,  where  he  was 
soon  joined  by  Zajonzek,  who  had  been  banished  from  tlie  Polish 
territories  as  a  promoter  of  sedition.  He  informed  Kosciusko, 
that  his  countrymen  were  ripe  for  a  revolt,  and  that  they  wished  to 
have  him  appear  without  delay,  as  a  more  favorable  opportunity 
•would  not  occur.  The  ambitious  designs  of  Russia  were  no  lon 
ger  concealed:  the  ambassador  of  the  empress  ordered  the  con 
stitution  of  1791  annulled,  and  the  military  force  of  Poland  redu 
ced  to  16,000  men,  thus  intending  to  deprive  the  nation  of  all 
power  of  resistance.  The  patriotic  Mondalinski,  placing  himself 
at  their  head,  the  troops  were  invincible,  and  refused  to  lay  down 
their  arms.  The  spirit  of  resistance  was  spread  through  the  coun 
try,  and  the  ardour  of  the  nation  roused  to  the  highest  pitch.  The 
Russians,  to  enforce  their  mandates,  sent  a  numerous  army  into 
the  country,  whose  ruthless  conduct  drove  the  Poles  to  desperation. 
The  peasantry  were  compelled  to  feed,  lodge,  and  convey  their 
enemies  from  place  to  place,  without  compensation,  and  thus  to 
become  the  instruments  of  enslaving  their  own  country.  This 
severe  and  cruel  treatment  exasperated  the  public  feeling,  and 
the  spirit  of  revenge  and  resistance  became  inveterate  and  uni 
versal. 

At  this  time,  the  great  patriot  and  hero  to  whom  all  looked  as  a 
leader,  appeared,  and  was  immediately  appointed  generalissimo 
of  the  patriot  army,  and  chief  of  the  confederacy.  He  took  the 
oath  of  fidelity  to  the  nation,  and  of  adherence  to  the  act  of  insur 
rection  by  which  war  was  declared  against  the  ruthless  invaders 
of  the  rights  and  independence  of  Poland.  Like  Washington,  he 
had  conferred  on  him  such  ample  powers,  as,  in  the  possession  of 
any  other  .man,  would  have  be«n  a  source  of  jealousy  if  not  of 
:rjeal  danger;  but  his  country  had  the  most  unbounded  confidence 
in  Kosciusko,  which  was  not  misplaced.  He  issued  a  proclama 
tion,  containing  an  appeal  to  every  rank  and  class  of  the  people,  to 
rally  round  the  standard  of  their  country  and  of  freedom,  and  to 
break  the  chains  which  enslaved  them,  or  perish  in  the  attempt. 
This  appeal  was  not  made  in  vain:  he  was  soon  surrounded  by  a 
large  number  of  armed  peasantry;  and  the  nobility  having  pro 
claimed  the  constitution  of  1791,  departed  to  their  respective 
estates,  to  bring  their  vassals  into  the  field.  The  Russians  were 
soon  driven  out  of  Cracow,  which  became  the  head-quarters  of 
the  patriot  army.  A  Russian  force  of  6,000  men  marching  to 
ward  Cracow,  under  General  Wononzow,  to  attack  the  patriots, 
was  engaged  by  tireir  brave  leader,  and  defeated  with  the  loss  of 


KOSCIUSKO.  593 

1000  men,  and  eleven  pieces  of  cannon,  and  their  general  made 
prisoner.  This  splendid  success  became  the  signal  for  general 
hostilities,  and  had  the  most  favorable  influence.  The  Russian, 
general,  Igelstrom,  attempted  to  make  himself  master  of  the  arse 
nal  at  Warsaw,  but  was  resolutely  repelled  by  the  inhabitants,  who 
after  a  bloody  contest  of  three  days,  drove  the  Russians  from  the 
citv  with  the  loss  of  more  than  fifteen  hundred  men.  The  enemy 
retired  to  the  camp  of  the  Prussian  general  Wolki. 

In  other  towns  the  inhabitants  displayed  similar  bravery  and 
resolution,  and  in  many  their  exertions  wefre  successful.     These 
successes  served  to  inspire  confidence,  and  to  animate  the  most  des 
ponding;  the  whole  country  was  soon  in  arms,  and  60,000  troops 
were  in  field,  exclusive  of  the  peasantry,  who  were  armed  with 
pikes.     These  movements  filled  with  astonishment  the  courts  of 
Petersburgh  and  Berlin,  who  had  flattered  themselves  that  Poland 
was  so  far  humbled,  and  the  spirit  of  the  nation  so  broken,  that  it 
had  no  longer  the  power  to  make  any  resistance.     Being  exaspe 
rated  at  this  unexpected  resistance,  Catharine  and  Frederick  made 
great  exertions  to  overcome  the  insurgents,  as  they  called   them, 
and  to  defend  the  country  they  had  forcibly  annexed  to  their  own 
dominions.     These  two  powers  marched  1 10,000  men  into  Poland, 
all  regular  and  well-disciplined  troops,  which  gave  them  a  decided 
superiority.     Kosciusko,  however,  made  a   skilful   retreat   upon 
Warsaw,  where  he  was  besieged  by  a  large  Prussian  army.     He 
defended  the  place  for  ten  weeks,  when,  after  sustaining  a  loss  of 
20,000  men,  the  Prussian  commander   was   obliged  to  raise  the 
siege  and  retire  to  his  own  territories.     During:  this  siege,  the  Rus 
sians  had  overrun  Lithuania  and  Volhynia;   and  Kosciusko  being 
at   liberty,  matched  to  oppose  them.     The   eyes  of  Europe  and 
America  were  fixed  on  him,  as  this  was  justly  viewed  as  the  last 
struggle  of  an  oppressed  but  brave  people;  all  who   loved  liberty, 
or  regarded  justice,  felt  an  ardent  desire  for  their  success:  and 
from  the  noble  spirit  which  pervaded  the  nation,  and  from  the  vic 
tories  which  had  been  achieved,  great  hopes   were   entertained. 
These,  however,  were  too  soon  found  to  be  fallacious;  fortune  did 
not  favour  the  patriot  chief,  and  Poland  was  destined  to  fall  never 
to  rise  again,  and  to  be  erased  from  the  map  of  nations.    Koscuisko 
and  his  brave  companions  in  arms,  fighting   for  their  liberty,  the 
independence  of  their  country,  the  safety  of  their  wives  and  chil 
dren,  displayed  feats  of  bravery  and   determined  perseverance, 
worthy  of  the  sacred  cause  in  which  they  were  engaged,  with  thr 
disciplined  but  ferocious  barbarians  of  the  north. 

After  some  less  important  operations,  a  great  battle  was  fought 
at  Matchevitz,  on  the  19th  of  October,  (1794,)  in  which  Koscitisko 
was  defeated,  and  bis  brave  patriot  army  almost  annihilated. — 
The  Russian  general,  Baron  de  Fersen,  on  learning  that  Kosciusko 
expected  to  be  joined  by  Poniski,  resolved  tp  attack  him  be/ore  a 
junction  could  be  effected.  The  action  commenced  before  light* 


KOSCIUSKO, 

and  contincd  to  rage  until  past  midday;  the  patriots,  animated  by 
the  example  of  their 'intrepid  chief,' faught  like  men  determined  to 
conquer  or  die,  and  the  latter,  dreadful  alternative,  was  the  un 
happy  fate  of  a  large  portion  of  these  brave  men ;  6000  lay  dead 
on  the  field,  and  nearly  2000  were  wounded  or  captured.  Their 
intrepid  leader  was  wounded  and  made  prisoner.  He  was  advan 
cing  a  few  steps  after  he  received  his  wound,  when  a  Cossack  ap 
proached  arid  aimed  at  him  a  dreadful  blow,  which  would  inevita 
bly  have  proved  fatal,  had  not  a  Russian  officer,  whose  wife  had 
been  a  prisoner  to  Kosciusko,  and  been  treated  with  great  kind 
ness  by  him,  interposed  and  stopped  the  blow.  The  prostrate  hero, 
however,  not  wishing  to  survive  the  fall  of  his  country,  requested 
the  officer,  if  he  really  wished  to  do  him  a  kindness,  to  permit  the 
soldier  to  put  an  end  to  his  existance.  But  he  was  made  a  priso 
ner,  conveyed  to  Petersburg!),  and  there  confined  in  a  fortress. — 
The  last  vial  of  wrath  was  poured  out  on  Poland,  and  her  fate  waV 
irrevocably  scaled; — 

"Oh!  bloodiest  picture  in  the  book  of  time* 
Sarmatia  fell  unwept,  without  a  crime, 
Found  not  a  generous  friend,  apilyiug  foe, 
Strength  in  her  arms, or  meflcy  in  her  wo; 
Dropp'd  from  her  nerveless  grasp  the  shattered  spear. 
Clos'd  her  bright  eye  and  curb'd  her  high  career; — 
Hope  for  a  season  bade  the  world  farewell, 
And  freedom  shriek'd  as  Kosciusko  fell." 

The  whole  country  was  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Russian* 
and  Prussians,  except  Warsaw,  where  the  troops  of  the  invaders 
were  marching  to  beseige  it.  The  brave  Poles,  "few  but  undis 
mayed,''  consisting  of  not  more  than  10,000  men,  were  determined 
to  make  a  desperate  resistance,  and  to  sell  their  lives  as  dear  as 
possible.  As  soon  as  the  Russian  army  reached  the  suburb  of 
Prague,  they  erected  during  the  nijrht  several  batteries,  aYid  a 
furious  assult  was  then  commenced.  The  two  first  divisions,  after 
suffering  severely  from  a  vigorous  fire  of  the  inhabitants  for  more 
than  eight  hours,  at  length  overcoming  all  obstacles,  rushed  into 
the  place,  pursued  the  routed  foe  through  the  streets,  slaughtered 
about  2000  of  them,  and  drove  1000  into  the  Vistula.  The  en 
trenchments  were  every  where  forced,  and  the  streets  filled  with 
dead;  a  regiment  of  Jews  having  made  an  obstinate  defence,  were 
nearly  all  killed;  the  fugitives  being  pursued  to  the  river,  which 
stopped  their  flight,  several  thousands  were  massacred.  Not  sat- 
fsfied  with  the  slaughter  of  the  battle,  about  ten  hours  afterward, 
flie  ruthless  and  infamous  Suwarrow,  the  Kengis-Khan  of  modern 
times,  ordered  the  city  set  on  fire,  and  delivered  the  inhabitants  up 
to  plunder  and  massacre.  No  age, sex,  or  condition,  was  spared, 
but  all  were  c-ilike  exposed  to  the  brutal  violence  of  a  ferocious 
Soldierv.  and  were  involved  in  orte  commofi  ruin.  More  than 


COUNT    PULASKI.  595 

i  a,000  persons  were  killed  or  drowned,  and  about  the  same  num 
ber  were  made  prisoners;  a  majority  of  whom  were  soon  after 
released.  Humanity  weeps  over  this  horrid  scene  and  Christian 
ity  blushes  that  such  savage  monsters  should  assume  her  name. 

King  Stanislaus  was  again  taken  to  Grodno,  and  compelled  to 
resign  his  crown,  and  from  thence  was  removed  to  Petersburg!], 
where  he  -remained  a  prisoner  until  his  death.  As  Russia  and 
Prussia  were  afcout  dividing  the  spoil,  Austria  suddenly  stepped 
in  and  demanded  a  share;  and  unwilling  to  incur  her  displeasure, 
and  as  stolen  property  is  always  valued  rather  lightly,  they  con 
cluded  to  gratify  her  in  her  wishes,  and  the  remaining  territories 
of  Poland  were  devided  among  the  three  royal  robbers.  All  the 
patriotic  associates  of  Kosciusko  shared  the  same  fate  as  their 
leader;  they  were  imprisoned  at  Petersburg!!,  and  in  other  for 
tresses,  where  they  remained  until  the  accession  of  Paul,  in  179&. 
He  showed  great  liberality  to  the  persecuted  Poles,  and  set  most 
of  them  at  liberty.  Kosciusko  was  among  the  number,  he  being 
permitted  either  to  remain  in  the  Russian  dominions,  or  to  emigrate 
to  America.  He  preferred  to  retire  to  the  country  of  freedom, 
which  he  had  assisted  in  its  struggle  for  its  independence,  and  not 
long  afterward  came  to  the  United  States. 

VVe  are  not  informed  how  lorg  he  remained  heie;  but  he  had 
returned  to  Europe  previously  to  the  last  mighty  struggle  between 
France  and  the  allied  powers,  and  in  1815,  when  the  armies  of 
the  latter  entered  Paris,  he  was  residing  in  that  capital.  He  wi.s 
sought  out  by  the  Polish  soldiers,  who  regarding  him  as  the  great 
patriot  of  their  country,  and  remembering  his  toils,  exertions,  and 
sacrifices  in  defence  of  its  independence,  and  to  redeem  its  fading 
glory,  could  not  sufficiently  express  their  gratitude  and  veneration 
for  him,  then  weighed  down  with  years  and  sufferings,  yet  illustri 
ous  in  his  misfortunes.  He  died  soon  after  in  France,  at  an  ad 
vanced  age;  and  since,  his  remains  have  been  removed  from  a 
foreign  grave,  and  deposited  in  the  cemetery  of  the  kings  of  Po 
land,  at  Cracow,  where  they  repose  with  those  of  the  great  So- 
bieski.  A  monument  of  Carpathian  marble  has  recently  been 
erected  to  the  memory  of  Kosciusko,  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Sf. 
Bronislaway,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cracow.  The  Emperor 
Alexander  has  since  caused  the  remains  of  Stanislaus  Poniatowski 
to  be  removed  from  Petersburg!!,  where  he  died  in  1798,  to  the 
s>ame  cemetery. 


COUNT  PULASKI. 

COUNT  PULASKI,  a  distinguished  patriot  of  Poland,  and  a  parfl- 
zan  warrior;  he  was  one  of  the  distinguished  foreigners,  who 
during  our  revolutionary  struggle  came  to  America,  as  a  soldier  of 
liberty,  to  assist  in  fighting  the  battles  of  freedom.  He  had  sig- 

C4 


596  COUNT    PULASKI. 

nalized  his  patriotism  and  valour  in  the  disastrous  war  in  which  hi* 
country  was  engaged  in  1772,  which  terminated  in  the  first  dismem 
berment  of  Poland.  This  unhappy  war  originated  from  internal 
dissension,  occasioned  by  an  unjust  and  impolitic  decree  respecting 
the  privileges  of  the  Protestants  in  Poland,  called  the  dissidents. 
Having  petitioned  and  remonstrated  in  vain,  the  dissidents,  being 
encouraged  by  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria,  were  resolved  to  ap 
peal  to  the  sword  for  the  defence  of  their  rights..  A  civil  war 
was  thus  commenced,  which  afforded  an  occasion  for  the  ambitious 
and  rapacious  neighbours  of  Poland  to  interfere,  and  as  the  pre 
tended  allies  of  one  of  the  contending  parties,  invade  the  country. 
This  unjust  invasion  aroused  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  and  active 
preparations  were  made  to  defend  the  country.  The  anti-Russian 
party,  consisting  principally  of  the  Catholics,  were  called  the  con 
federates;  and  the  other  party,  comprising  the  adherents  of  Rus 
sia,  acted  in  concert  with  the  troops  of  the  allies.  The  original 
cause  of  the  contest  was  changed;  and  it  became  really  a  struggle 
between  the  Russian  and  the  anti-Russian  parties,  the  former 
being  supported  by  the  troops  of  the  allies,  and  the  latter  feebly 
assisted  by  Saxony  and  France.  Some  time  previous  to  the 
breaking  out  of  this  war,  Stanislaus  Poniatowski,  a  Polish  noble 
man  of  high  rank  and  distinction,  had  been  elected  king  of  Poland 
by  the  influence  of  Russia.  The  confederates,  or  the  anti-Rus 
sian  party,  were  jealous  of  him,  considering  him  as  being  subser 
vient  to  the  court  of  Petersburg!!,  and  believing  that  he  was  se 
cretly  in  favour  of  the  malecontents,  who  had  invited  foreign 
armies  into  the  country,  and  were  acting  with  them  in  carrying  on 
hostilities.  From  these  views,  it  became  a  great  object  with  the 
confederates,  to  depose  Stanislaus  and  crush  the  Russian  faction, 
and  rescue  the  country  from  the  influence  of  that  dangerous 
neighbour. 

Among  the  ardent  partizans  and  leaders  of  the  confederates, 
was  count  Pulaski.  By  him,  and  other  distinguished  Poles,  be 
longing  to  the  anti-Russian  association,  it  was  Relieved  that  Poland 
could  never  be  safe  nor  tranquil,  until  it  was  rescued  from  the  par 
alyzing  influence  of  Russia.  And  regarding  the  king,  (although 
as  subsequent  events  proveJ,  rather  unjustly,)  as  subservient  to 
that  power,  Pulaski  conceived  and  planned  the  hold  enterprise  of 
seizing  the  king,  and  conveying  him  to  the  camp  of  the  confeder 
ates.  Matters  having  been  arranged  for  the  execution  of  this 
daring  achieverrrent,  Kosinski,  and  other  members  of  the  anti-Rus 
sian  association,  who  were  intrusted  with  its  execution,  surprised 
and  seized  the  king  at  Warsaw,  although  surrounded  by  a  numer 
ous  body  of  guards,  and  conveyed  him  into  a  neighbouring  forest. 
But  his  expostulations  and  entireties  had  such  an  effect  on  KosinSki 
that  he  released  him,  and  saved  him  from  farther  violence,  he  hav 
ing  been  wounded  by  the  assailants.  The  king  was  so  exaspera 
ted,  that  he  declared  Pulaski  an  outlaw. 


COUNT    PULASKI.  597 

Bat  the  confederates  receiving  little  or  no  assistance  from  France 
or  S  ixoriy;  and  the  combined  powers,  bent  on  the  conquest  of  the 
country,  filling  it  with  their  troops,  the  contest  resulted  as  might 
have  b^en  expected,  from  the  unequal  means  of  the  belligerent 
parties.  The  brave  Poles  were  almost  every  where  defeated,  and 
the  numerous  armies  of  the  combined  powers  overcame  all  resist 
ance,  arid  made  themselves  masters  of  the  country.  Their  un 
principled  designs  were  no  longer  disguised:  but  they  openly 
avowed  their  intention  of  seizing  on  a  considerable  portion  of  thi 
conquered  country,,  and  dividing  the  spoil  among  themselves.  A 
treaty  to  this  effect  having  been  signed  on  the  2d  of  February, 
1772,  they  immediately  ordered  the  Poles  to  convoke  a  diet,  and 
sanction  this  violent  dismemberment,  under  a  threat  of  subjecting 
the  country  to  military  execution,  and  treating  it  as  a  conquered 
state.  By  these  violent  measures,  a  majority  of  the  diet  was  con 
strained  to  sanction  such  injustice  and  rapacity. 

Many,  however,  .of  the  noble-minded  Poles,  rather  than  to  be 
the  unwilling  instruments  of  bringing  their  country  to  ruin,  prefer 
red  exile  and  poverty;  and  to  avoid  witnessing  the  degradation  of 
their  native  land,  sought  an  asylum  abroad.  Among  this  number 
were  count  Pulaski,  and  the  illustrious  Kosciusko. 

War  breaking  out  two  years  after,  between  the  American  colo 
nies  and  the  parent  country,  this  struggle  of  an  infant  people  with 
their  powerful  oppressors,  excited  the  sympathies  of  the  friends 
of  liberty  throughout  Europe,  and  invited  many  patriots  to  our 
shores,  who  volunteered  their  services  in  the  glorious  cause.  Pu 
laski  and  Kosciusko  were  among  the  number:  they  arrived,  it  is 
believed,  early  in  the  year  1777.  Pulaski,  who  had  been  an  expe 
rienced  cavalry  officer  at  home,  had  a  command  given  him  in  the 
light-horse.  He  was  first  engaged  in  the  battle  of  the  Brandywine, 
in  which  the  young  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  and  many  other  for 
eigners,  were  employed.  Count  Pulaski,  who  commanded  a  party 
of  horse,  sustained  his  high  reputation  for  courage;  his  activity 
and  exertions  were  conspicuous  throughout  the  engagement,  and 
he  was  particularly  noticed  by  the  commander  in  chief,  as  having 
distinguished  himself.  And  congress  were  so  much  gratified  with 
his  conduct  and  promise  of  usefulness  in  that  branch  of  the  service 
in  which  he  was  employed,  that  they  a  few  days  afterward  appoint 
ed  him  a  brigadier  general,  and  commander  of  the  horse.  He 
continued  with  the  army  in  Pennsylvania,  during  the  remainder 
of  the  campaign  in  1777.  Early  the  next  year,  when  Baron  Steu- 
ben  was  appointed  inspector  general,  and  great  exertions  were 
made  by  Washington  to  improve  the  discipline,  and  effect  a  radical 
reform  in  the  army,  Count  Pulaski  was  empowered  to  raise  an 
independent  legion;  which  he  afterward  accomplished,  and  or 
ganized  and  disciplined  his  men  in  an  excellent  manner.  In  the 
fall  of  this  year,  he  was  unfortunately  surprised  by  a  party  of  the 
enemy,  and  sustained  considerable  loss.  Captain  Ferguson,  hav- 


COUNT    PULASKf. 

ing  returned  to  Egg-Harbour,  from  a  predatory  incursion,  there 
obtained  information  of  some  deserters  from  Pulaski's  legion,  of 
the  situation  of  that  corps,  which  induced  him  to  attempt  to  sur 
prise  and  attack  it.  Accordingly  Ferguson,  with  about  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  men,  embarked  in  barges  in  the  night,  and  landed 
near  where  a  part  of  Pulaski's  legion  was  quartered,  who,  being 
asleep,  and  wholly  unprepared  and  unsuspicious  of  danger,  were 
fallen  upon,  and  about  fifty  of  them  massacred,  including  several 
officers  of  distinction.  Pulaski,  having  rallied  his  men  as  soon  as 
he  could,  made  an  attempt  to  cut  off  this  party,  which  immediately 
retreated,  but  without  success. 

In  January,  1779,  General  Lincoln  having  been  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  southern  department,  Count  Pulaski's  light-horse 
were  ordered  to  the  south.     After  the  shameful  flight  of  General 
Ashe,  the  British,  under  General   Prevost,  obtained  possession  of 
the  whole  state  of  Georgia.     The  appointment  about  this  time  of 
John  Rutledge  governor  of  South  Carolina,  clothed  with   ample 
powers,  produced  a  favourable  effect,  and  soon  changed  the  gloomy 
aspect  of  affairs.     Lincoln,  finding    himself  at  the  head  of  5000 
men,  again  resolved  to  act  on  the  offensive.     He  once  more  crossed 
the  Savannah  River,  and  took  such  a  position  as  would  enable  him 
to  intercept  the  supplies  of  the  enemy,  from   the    back  parts  of 
Georgia;  leaving  General  Moultrie,  with  1000  men,  at  the  Black 
Swamp.     Count  Pulaski's  legion  of  light-horse,  formed  a  part  of 
the  force  under  Lincoln.     The  American  general   had  no  sooner 
made   this  movement,  than  the  British  commander  determined  to 
penetrate  into  South  Carolina.     Having  collected  a  force  of  3000 
men,  he  crossed  the  river  in  several  places,  and  traversing  swamps 
that  had  been  deemed  impassable,  appeared  so  unexpectedly,  that 
the  militia  under  General   Moultric  made   very  little  resistance, 
and  retreated  towards  Charleston.     The  British  general,  who  at 
rirst  probably  intended  his  movement  only  as  a  feint,  to  draw  Lin 
coln  back  from  his  expedition,,  emboldening  by  this  success,  resolv 
ed  to  push  on  to  the  capital  of  South  Carolina.     He  accordingly 
marched  in  pursuit  or  the  retreating  militia,  and  coming  up  with 
Colonel  Laurens,  who  had  been  left  with  a  party  to  defend  a  bridge, 
after  a  sharp  conflict  for  some  time,  in  which  Laurens  was  wound 
ed,  compelled    the  Americans  to  retire,  and   continued  his  march, 
tjou.  Lincoln,  judging  that  the  movement  of  Prevost  wa^  only  a 
feint  to  draw  him  hick,  despatched  Colonel  Harris,  with  300  con 
tinentals,  to  reinforce  Moultrie,  and  continued  his  march  towards 
the  capital  of  Georgia;  but  three  days  after,  being  convinced  that 
the  British  general  meditated   a  serious  attack  upon  Charleston, 
Lincoln    turned  about  and  retraced   his  steps.     Count  Pulaski's 
legion  of  light  troops,  were  immediately  ordered  on  to  join  Gen. 
Moultrie,  who   moved    with   such  rapidity,  that  they   came    up 
with  him  before  he  reached  Charleston,  and,  in  conjunction  with 
parties  of  militia,  made  repeated  stands  on  the  retreat,  and  skij- 


cbUNT    FULASKI.  599' 

mishcd  with  the  advance  guard  of  the  enemy,  which  seemed  to 
check  their  march.  Gen.  Moultrie  and  Colonel  Harris  reached 
Charleston  on  the  9th  of  May ;  and  governor  Rutledge,  with  a  body 
of  militia,  which  had  been  stationed  at  Orangeburg  as  a  reserve, 
on  the  10th;  Pulaski  arrived  with  his  legion  on  the  llth;  and  on 
the  same  day,  near  one  thousand  of  the  enemy  came  up,  crossed 
the  ferry  of  Ashley  River,  an-d  advanced  towards  the  town. 

Pulaski  immediately  conceived  a  plan  to  draw  the  enemy  into 
an  ambuscade ;  as  soon  as  they  approached,  he  marched  at  the 
head  of  a  single  company  of  infantry,  and  posted  them  behind  a 
small  breastwork  which  had  previously  been  thrown  up  in  a  valley, 
witli  orders  to  remain  concealed;  he  then  returned,  and  placing 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  small  party  of  horse,  sallied  out  and  ad- 
Tcuiced  a  mile  beyoi.d  the  concealed  infantry,  with  a  view  to  draw 
the  enemy's  cavalry  into  action,  intending  after  a  slight  skirmish  to 
retreat,  and  thus  draw  the  enemy's  cavalry  within  the  reach  of 
the  concealed  infantry.  But  the  object  was  defeated  by  the  ar 
dour  of  the  infantry;  disregarding  their  orders,  they  rushed  out 
from  behind  the  breastwork,  to  join  in  the  attack,  in  consequence 
of  wnich,  being  inferior  in  numbers  to  the  British,  Pulaski  was 
obliged  to  retreat.  The  enemy  pressed  hard  upon  them,  but  they 
were  met  and  resisted  in  the  most  intrepid  manner  by  Pulaski, 
whose  example  animated  his  men  to  deeds  of  heroism,  worthy  of 
their  brave  leader.  After  this,  several  skirmishes  during  the  day 
and  succeeding  night  occurred,  between  the  cavalry  of  the  two 
hostile  parties,  in  all  of  which  Pulaski's  legion,  led  on  by  their 
intrepid  chief,  displayed  a  coolness  ajid  bravery  which  has  seldom 
been  surpassed,  and  which  reflected  great  honour  on  their  gallant 
commander,  whose  exertions  and  example  stimulated  his  brave 
men  to  noble  deeds.  Perhaps  a  braver  man  than  Pulaski  never 
drew  a  sword;  during  these  various  encounters,  he  was  repeatedly 
engaged  in  single  combat  with  individuals  of  the  enemy,  and 
sometimes  with  fearful  odds.  In  the  mean  time,  the  troops  with 
in  the  town,  and  the  inhabitants  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes,  were 
actively  employed  in  strengthening  their  defences. 

On  the  next  day,  the  12th,  the  town  was  summoned  to  surrender, 
and  although  the  conditions  offered  were  considered  favourable, 
they  were  not  accepted,  and  the  negotiation  was  protracted 
through  the  day,  by  which  means  further  time  was  obtained  for 
improving  the  means  of  defending  the  city.  On  the  13th,  a  most 
extraordinary  proposition  was  submitted  to  the  British  commander^ 
which  was  that  the  whole  state  would  remain  neutral  during  the 
war,  and  its  ultimate  destiny  to  depend  on  the  peace.  If  any  thing 
could  exceed  the  pusillanimity  and  folly  of  this  proposition,  it  wag 
the  conduct  of  General  Prevostin  refusing  to  accept  it,  and  imme 
diately  breaking  up  his  camp  and  retreating,  without  farther  nego 
tiation,  or  making  any  attempt  upon  the  town. 


600  COUNT  PULASKI. 

General  Lincoln  pursued  the  enemy  to  Stono-Ferrey,  where  on 
the  20th  of  June,  he  attacked  a  part  of  Prevost's  force,  under 
Col.  Maitland,  and  sustained  a  sharp  conflict  for  an  hour  and  a 
half  with  great  advantage,  when  the  enemy  receiving  a  reinforce 
ment,  the  Americans  were  compelled  to  retire,  and  being  hard 
pressed  with  fresh  troops,  considerable  confusion  ensued,  at  which 
juncture  Pulaskrs  horse  charged  the  enemy  with  such  gallantry 
and  spirit  as  checked  their  advance,  and  enabled  Mason's  Virginia 
brigade  to  move  up  and  cover  the  retreat. 

In  the  unfortunate  siege  of  Savannah, Count  Pulaski  was  enga 
ged  with  his  legion,  and  displayed  his  accustomed  activity  and 
valour,  which  however  proved  latal,  and  terminated  his  military 
and  earthly  career.  The  unexpected  appearance  of  the  French 
fleet  on  the  American  coast,  alarmed  the  British  forces  in  Georgia; 
On  the  13th  of  September,  1779,  the  Count  D'Estaing  landed 
3,000  men  at  Beaulieu,  which,  on  the  15th  were  joined  by  Count 
Pulaski  with  his  legion;  but  the  rest  of  the  troops  under  General 
Lincoln,  from  the  difficulties  of  the  route,  did  not  arrive  until  the 
16th,  when  the  allied  armies  united  in  front  of  the  town  of  Savan 
nah.  Previously  to  this,  Count  D'Estaing  had  appeared  with  his 
fleet  before  the  town,  and  summoned  the  garrison  to  surrender. 
General  Prevost  artfully  replied  by  requesting  a  truce  for  four- 
and-twenty  hours  to  adjust  the  terms  of  capitulation;  his  only  object, 
however,  being  to  obtain  time  to  strengthen  his  works  and  means 
of  defence.  This  repuest  unfortunately  was  granted,  and  the 
time  was  employed  by  the  besieged,  in  the  most  active  exertions; 
and  within  the  time,  General  Prevost  was  reinforced  by  the  arrival 
of  his  outposts,  which  increased  his  force  one-third.  At  the  close 
of  the  truce,  Prevost  informed  the  count  that  he  should  defend 
himself  to  the  last  extremity.  On  the  23d,  the  allied  armies  broke 
ground  for  the  siege,  and  proceeded  in  their  work  with  great  activ 
ity.  In  ten  days,  more  than  fifty  pieces  of  battering  cannon  and 
fourteen  mortars  were  mounted;  which  were  opposed  by  nearly 
one  hundred  of  different  sizes,  and  on  the  fourth  of  October,  a 
tremendous  fire  was  commenced  upon  the  town.  After  the  batte 
ries  had  played  on  the  town  for  several  days  without  much  effect. 
Count  D'Estaing  being  anxious  about  the  safety  of  his  fleet,  if  the 
siege  should  be  prolonged,  proposed  to  change  the  plan  of  opera 
tions,  and  make  an  attempt  upon  the  town  by  storm.  This  Lincoln 
was  obliged  to  agree  to,  as  otherwise  the  count  threatened  to  aban 
don  the  siege  altogether.  Unfortunately,  information  of  the  in 
tended  assault  was  conveyed  to  Prevost,  by  rin  officer  who  deserted 
from  the  Charleston  volunteers,  which  enabled  him  to  prepare  for 
it.  Savannah  is  protected  from  an  attack  by  land  by  the  river  on 
one  side,  and  a  deep  morass  on  the  other,  extending  parallel  with 
the  river  in  the  rear  of  the  town.  The  assault  was  made  on  the 
morning  of  the  9th,  before  daylight,  by  two  columns,  on  the  ene 
my's  right ;  on/j  commanded  by  Count  D'Estaing  and  Gen..  Lincoln 


BARON    DE    KALB.  601 

5n  concert,  and  the  other  by  count  Dillon.  The  former  moved  along 
the  margin  of  the  morass,  covered  by  the  darkness,  to  within  a 
short  distance  of  the  enemy's  line,  when  their  concealed  batteries 
being  unmasked,  a  destructive  fire  was  opened  upon  them,  which 
made  great  havoc.  Undismayed  by  this  slaughter,  the  column 
continued  to  advance,  and  D'Estaing  and  Lincoln  forced  the  abbat- 
is,and  placed  their  standards  on  the  parapet;  at  this  time  had  the 
other  column  came  up,  the  assault  would  have  succeeded^  and  the 
possess  on  of  the  enemy's  works  been  certain ;  but  Count  Dillon 
unfortunately  lost  his  way  in  the  darkness,  and  failed  in  affording 
the  expected  co-operation.  At  this  crisis,  Colonel  Maitland  made 
a  vigorous  attack  on  the  brave  soldiers  who  had  planted  their 
standards  on  the  parapet,  who  were  forced  into  the  ditch,  the  flags 
torn  down,  arid  the  whole  column  compelled  to  retire  through  the 
abbatis.  This  disastrous  result  of  the  attack,  would  probably 
have  been  avoided,  but  for  the  fatal  termination  of  the  gallant  ca 
reer  of  the  brave  Pulaski.  At  the  moment  Colonel  Maitland,  with 
his  own  corps  united  with  the  marines  and  grenadiers,  under  Lieut. 
Colonel  Glazier,  pushed  forward  to  attack  the  assailants,  Pulaski 
perceiving  the  danger  to  which  the  allied  column  was  placed, 
made  a  bold  effort  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  horse,  to  force  his 
way  through  the  enemy's  works  and  gain  the  rear  of  Maitland, 
which  would  have  placed  that  brave  and  skilful  officer  in  a  critical 
situation,  and  in  all  probability  have  changed  the  fate  of  the  day; 
but  whilst  advancing  at  the  head  of  his  men,  exposed  to  the  most 
tremendous  fire,  the  intrepid  Pulaski  received  a  mortal  wound, 
ana*  fell  from  his  horse.  The  fall  of  their  heroic  leader  stoppecj 
the  progress  of  the  squadron,  and  they  immediately  retreated.  He 
lived  two  days,  and  expired  on  the  1 1th  of  October,  1779.  Thus 
fell  in  a  most  bold  and  daring  achievement,  the  distinguished  Po 
lish  patriot  and  hero,  in  the  cause  of  American  liberty:  his  mem 
ory  is  entitled  to  our  veneration,  as  his  life  forms  an  item  in  the 
price  of  our  independence.  Soon  after  congress  resolved,  that  a 
monument  should  be  erected  to  his  memory;  but  this  paper  statue, 
and  the  heroic  deeds  of  a  bold  and  adventurous  life,  constitute  the 
only  monument  that  has  been  erected  to  his  memory,  or  which 
serves  to  perpetuate  his  fame. 


BARON  DE  KALB, 

Mtijor-General  in  the  American  Army. 

BARON  DE  KALB  was  a  native  of  Germany ;  but,  having  long  been 
employed  in  the  service  of  France,  previous  to  the  commencement 
of  the  American  revolution,  he  possessed  the  character  of  a  French 
officer,  if  not  of  a  French  citizen,  when  he  came  to  the  United 
States.  He  arrived  here  in  1777,  and  being  an  officer  of  great 
experience,  and  undoubted  courage,  he  received  the  cqmmisstono! 


BARON    DE    KALB. 

major  general  from  congress.  Early  in  the  year  following,  he  w«ts 
selected  as  one  of  the  officers  in  the  expedition,  which  had  been 
planned  against  Canada,  and  proceeded  to  Albany  to  i  n^age  in 
the  enterprise,  the  command  of  which  was  intrusted  to  the  young 
Marquis  de  La  Fayette;  but  the  preparations  being  wholly  inade 
quate,  the  expedition  was  abandoned.  Generals  Conway  and 
Stark  were  also  to  havejoined  in  the  enterprise. 

In  the  summer  of  1780, after  the  surrender  of  Charleston,  and 
the  submission  of  the  whole  of  South  Carolina  to  the  royal  author 
ity,  and  all  resistance  in  that  quarter  had  nearly  ceased,  the  Baron 
de  Kalb  was  ordered  by  congress  to  the  south,  to  revive  a  spirit  of 
"resistance,  arxd  arrest,  if  possible,  the  prevailing  fortunes  of  the 
victorious  enemy.  The  situation  of  the  southern  states,  at  this 
time,  was  truly  alarming;  Georgia  and  South  Carolina  were  con 
quered,  and  North  Carolina  was  quiet,  and  apparently  overawed; 
and  congress  felt  the  necessity  of  directing  their  attention,  in  a 
particular  manner,  to  that  quarter,  and  of  making  every  possible 
effort  to  retrieve  their  fallen  fortunes,  in  that  department  of  the 
war.  The  ordering  of  Baron  de  Kalb,  at  this  time,  to  that  station, 
is  a  strong  evidence  of  the  confidence  congress  reposed  in  his 
talents.  General  Gates,  whose  reputation  at  this  time  was  per 
haps  second  to  that  of  no  officer,  except  the  commander  in  chief, 
was  appointed  to  the  chief  command  in  the  southern  department; 
and  great  hopes  were  indulged  from  the  exertions  of  two  such 
distinguished  generals.  Baron  de  Kalb  arrived  at  Hillsborough 
in  North  Carolina,  at  the  head  of  two  thousand  continentals, 
consisting  of  the  Maryland  and  Delaware  lines.  His  approach 
revived  the  despondent  hopes,  and  animated  the  drooping  .spirits 
of  the  inhabitants;  the  militia  flocked  to  his  standard  from  North 
Carolina  and  Virginia,  and  were  soon  organized  and  prepared  to 
join  him  on  his  march.  He  had  not  proceeded  far,  before  he  was 
overtaken  by  General  Gates,  who  assumed  the  chief  command; 
and  this  increased  the  joy  which  had  already  been  excited,  and 
produced  sanguine  hopes  of  a  successful  campaign.  The  aspect 
of  affairs  was  at  once  changed;  the  gloom  of  despondency  was* 
succeeded  by  the  brightning  rays  of  high  expectation?;  which 
counteracted  the  effect  of  the  proclamations  of  Clinton  and 
Cornwallis,  and  brought  many  to  the  American  standard,  who  a 
short  time  before  had  exchanged  their  paroles  for  the  oath  of 
allegiance.  4 

Gen.  Gates,  relying  on  these  favourable  circumstances,  and  not 
sufficiently  cautioue,  seemed  only  desirous  of  meeting  the.  enemy. 
He  changed  the  route,  which  the  prudence  of  the  B  iron  de  Kalb 
had  selected,  leading  through  a  district  which  afforded  abundant 
supplies  for  the  troops, and  pursued  a  nearer  route,  but  which  led 
through  a  barren  country  scarcely  settled,  and  where  no  provis 
ions  could  be  obtained,  but  green  corn  and  unripe  fruits.  This 
occasioned  a  fatal  sickness,  of  which  many  died,  and  more  became 


BARON    DE    KALB.  603 

unfit  for  duty;  and  the  horses  also  suffered  for  the  want  of  forage,  which 
rendered  them  of  little  use:  General  Gates  moved  to  Lynch's  Creek, 
which  alone  separated  him  from  Lord  Rawdon,  when  the  latter  immedi 
ately  retreated  to  Camden,  and  despatched  intelligence  of  the  approach  of 
the  American  army  to  Cornwallis.  General  Gates  moved  on  to  Rudgley's 
Mills,  where  he  halted  and  encamped.  Here  being  informed  by  General 
Sumpter,  that  a  party  of  the  enemy  were  on  their  way,  with  stores  for  the 
army  at  Camden,  and  that  with  a  detachment  of  artillery  he  could  inter 
cept  them,  Gates  ordered  Colonel  Woolford,  with  four  hundred  men  and 
two  field-pieces  to  his  aid.  General  Gates  was  joined  here  by  General 
Stevens,  with  several  hundred  Virginia  militia;  and  although  he  had  weak 
ened  his  force  by  detaching  Colonel  Woolford,  he  still  prepared  to  march 
to  Camden,  and  seemed  to  suppose  that  Lord  Rawdon  would  retreat  at 
his  approach,  as  he  had  done  at  Lynch's  Creek ;  and  he  was  entirely  igno- 
Kant  of  Lord  Cornwallis's  arrival. 

The  very  night  that  Gates  moved  from  Rudgley's  Mills,  Cornwallis 
marched  from  Camden,  with  the  intention  of  surprising  him  in  his  posi 
tion.  The  advanced  guards  of  the  two  armies  met  on  the  morning  of 
the  16th,  some  hours  before  dawn  of  light.  Armond's  squadron  of  cav 
alry,  which  was  in  advance,  was  immediately  thrown  back  in  confusion 
on  the  Maryland  regiment,  which  occasioned  some  disorder;  but  the  light 
infantry,  which  flanked  the  army,  opposed  the  advance  of  the  enemy's 
van,  and  this  first  apprized  the  two  generals  of  the  proximity  of  their 
armies.  Neither  being  willing  to  risk  an  action  in  the  dark,  both  immedi 
ately  halted  and  prepared  for  action.  The  situation,  which  was  the  result 
of  accident,  and  not  of  choice  on  either  side,  was  precisely  what  the  ene 
my  desired,  as  the  deep  swamps,  on  both  sides,  prevented  the  Americans 
from  presenting  a  more  extended  line  than  the  enemy,  which,  from  their 
superior  numbers,  they  might  have  done,  would  the  ground  have  admitted 
of  it.  There  were  about  2,000  of  the  British,  and  about  3,700  Americans, 
of  which,  however,  one  thousand  only  were  continentals.  The  enemy 
were  drawn  up  in  one  line,  extending  across  the  whole  ground,  and  flanked 
by  the  swamps  on  both  sides.  Colonel  Webster  was  stationed  on  the  right, 
and  Lord  Rawdon  on  the  left;  in  front  of  the  line,  the  artillery,  with  four 
field-pieces,  were  posted ;  the  reserve  were  posted  at  two  stations  in  the 
rear,  near  the  centre  of  each  wing,  at  each  of  which  was  one  six  pounder; 
and  the  cavalry  occupied  the  road  in  the  rear,  which,  with  the  reserve, 
formed  the  second  line.  General  Gates  changed  the  first  disposition  of 
his  troops;  the  second  Maryland  brigade  and  the  Delaware  regiment  were 
posted  on  the  right,  under  General  Gist:  the  centre  was  occupied  by  Gen. 
Caswell,  with  the  North  Carolina  militia;  and  the  Virginia  militia,  com 
manded  by  Gen.  Stevens,  were  placed  on  the  left,  being  opposed  to  the 
best  troops  of  the  enemy.  The  artillery  was  divided  among  the  several 
brigades;  and  the  first  Maryland  brigade,  under  General  Smalhvood,  form 
ed  the  reserve.  The  line  of  battle  was  intrusted  to  the  Baron  de  Kalb, 
who  was  ppsted  on  the  right,  great  reliance  being  placed  on  his  experience 
and  known  intrepidity;  he  was  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  whole 
line,  and  direct  his  exertions  where  circumstances  might  indicate.  Gen. 
Gates  was  stationed  in  the  road,  between  the  reserve  and  the  front  line. 

The  action  was  commenced  by  a  vigorous  attack  on  the  American  left, 
oy  the  enemy's  ri"ht,  which  were  their  best  troops:  this  was  immediately 

D4 


604  BAftON    DE    KALB. 

followed  by  the  discharge  of  artillery  from  our  centre,  and  the  action  wae 
soon  commenced  along  the  whole  line.     The  Virginia  militia  on  our  left, 
unable  to  stand  the  vigorous  assault  of  the  British  veterans,  after  one  fire 
threw  down  their  arms  and  fled ;  and  their  pernicious  example  was  imme 
diately  folhnved  by  the  North  Carolina  brigade  in  our  centre;  and  all   tire 
exertions  of  their  officers,  and  of  General  Gates  in  person,  to  rally  them, 
was  ineffectual :  filled  with  consternation,  they  continued  their  cowardly 
flight  until  they  reached  a  place  of  safety.     The  centre  of  the  American 
line  being  thus  broken,  the  right,  consisting  of  the  Maryland  brigade  and 
Delaware  regiment,  led  by  the  gallant  de  Kalb,  had  to  sustain  the   whole 
Jforceof  the  action.     De  Kalb  and  Gist  were  pushing  on  with  decided  ad 
vantage,  at  the  time  the  militia  gave  way,  which  stopped  their  advance, 
and  brought  the  whole  fire  of  the  enemy  upon  them;   animated  by  their 
brave  leader,  they  resolutely  sustained  this  unequal  contest  for  a  consider 
able  time,  and  until  all  the  other  troops  had  retreated :  several  times  were 
the  enemy's  van  driven  in  with  loss.     General  Smallwood,  with  the  first 
Maryland  brigade,  which  had  formed  the  reserve,  advanced  and   took  the 
place  of  the  fugitives  on  the  left,  which  exposed  him  to  the  whole  corps  of 
Webster's  veterans,  on  the  enemy's  right.     The  shock  was  too  heavy  for 
militia;  three  times   was   General  Smallwcod   compelled    to  give  way, 
and  with  determined  valour  three  times  did  he  return  to  the  charge,  and 
would  probably  have  maintained  his  ground   had  not  the  remaining  regi 
ment  of  North  Carolina  militia,  which  for  some  time  seemed  resolved  to 
retrieve  the  disgrace  of  their  countrymen,  finally  gave  way,  which  com 
pelled  Smalhvood's  regiment  to  retire  in  some  disorder  from  so  unequal 
and  destructive  a  contest.  This  left  the  right  the  second  time  exposed  to 
the  whole  force  of  the  ei;€my.     Few,  but  undismayed,  the  brave  continen 
tals,  animated  by  the  heroic  conduct  of  their  chief,  made  a  determined 
effort  to  sustain  the  honour  of  the  field  alone.     From  the  vast  superiority 
of  the  enemy,  their  fire  was  heavy  and  destructive,  and  couid  not  be  re 
turned  with  the  same  effect;  De  Kalb,  therefore,  placed  his  last  hopes  on 
the  baynoet,  and,  making  a  desperate  charge,  drove  the  enemy  before  him 
with  considerable  advantage.     But  at  this  time,  Cornwallis,  perceiving 
that  the  American  cavalry  had  left  the  field,  ordered  Colonel  Tarleton  to 
charge  with  his  cavalry;  and,  having  concentrated  his  whole  force,  the 
cliarge  was  made  with  the  usual  impetuosity  of  that  daring  officer.     This 
was  decisive  of  the  desperate  conflict,  and  fatal  to  the  gallant  officer  who 
is  the  subject  of  this  brief  notice.     Fatigued  from  their  long  and  arduous 
efforts,  the  heroic  continentals,  who  had  sustained  almost  the  whole  bur 
den  of  the  day,  were  unable  to  withstand  the  charge;  and  their  gallant 
leader,  who  was  himself  a  host,  having  fallen,  they   were  compelled  to 
leave  a  field  which  they  had  so  honourably  defended,  and  seek  safety  by 
flight.     The  victory,  and  the  dispersion  of  the  Americans,  was  complete; 
and  the  fugitives  were  pursued  for  more  than  twenty  miles.     The  troops 
under  De  Kalb,  on  the  right,  suffered  as  might  be  supposed,  most  severe 
ly;  the  Delaware  regiment  was  nearly  destroyed,  two  companies  only  be 
ing  left,  and  more  than  one-third  of  the  continentals  were  killed  and 
wounded. 

Perhaps  no  officer  ever  exerted  himself  more,  in  a  single  action,  thai.) 
did  the  Baron  deKalb  on  this  occasion;  he  did  all  that  man  could  do  to 
retrieve  the  fortune  of  the  day,  exposing  himself  to  constant  and  imminent 


BARON    DE    STEUBENV  605 

Danger.  He  received  eleven  wounds  in  the  course  of  the  action ;  but  kept 
his  post,  and  continued  his  exertions  until  the  last,  which  proved  mortal. 
As  he  fell,  his  aid,  Lieutenant-Colonel  de  Buysson ,  caught  him  in  his 
arms,  to  save  him  from  the  uplifted  bayonets  of<  the  enemy,  which  he 
warded  off  by  receiving  them  in  his  own  body.  In  his  last  moments  the 
Baron  dictated  a  letter  to  General  Snaallwood,  who  succeeded  to  his  com 
mand,  expressing  a  warm  affection  for  the  Americans  and  the  cause  in 
which  they  were  engaged,  and  his  admiration  of  the  conduct  of  the  troops 
under  his  immediate  command,  whose  bravery  and  firmness,  in  so  unequal 
a  contest,  lie  said,  had  called  forth  the  commendation  even  of  the  enemy; 
and  concluded  by  expressing  the  satisfaction  he  felt  in  having  fallen  in  the 
defence  of  the  independence  and  liberties  of  America,  a  cause  so  dear  to 
the  lovers  of  liberty  and  the  friends  of  humanity,  in  Europe  as  well  as 
America.  He  survived  only  a  few  days:  an  ornamental  tree  was  planted 
at  the  head  of  his  grave,  near  Camden,  and  congress,  duly  sensible  of  his 
menls,  passed  a  resolution  directing  a  monument  to  be  erected  to  his 
memory,  with  very  honourable  inscriptions,  at  Annapolis,  in  Maryland; 
but  the  resolution,  it  is  believed,  has  never  been  carried  into  effect,  and  the 
gratitude  and  plighted  faith  of  the  nation  both  remain  unredeemed.  He 
was  in  the  forty-eight  year  of  his  age;  most  of  his  life  had  been  spent  in 
military  employments,  and  the  last  three  years  in  America,  with  distin 
guished  reputation. 


BARON  DE  STEUBEN, 

Major  General  in  the  American  Army. 

FKEIXERICK  WILLTAM  STEUBEN,  was  a  native  of  Prussia?and  born  in 
die  year  1735.  Being  designed  for  the  profession  of  arms,  he  received  a 
military  education,  and  was  early  engaged  in  military  employments.  His 
military  science,  undoubted  bravery,  and  assiduous  attention  to  duty,  did 
not  escape  the  penetration  of  the  great  Frederick ;  and  soon  procured  for 
the  young  Baron  the  confidence  of  his  sovereign,  and  the  most  honourable 
preferment.  For  many  years,  he  served  in  the  memorable  campaigns  of 
his  sovereign,  the  greatest  commander  of  the  age,  with  distinguished  rep 
utation.  This  was  a  school,  in  which  the  dullest  could  hardly  fail  of  ac 
quiring  experience  and  knowledge  in  the  art  of  war;  and  at  the  same  time 
opened  a  field,  sufficiently  capacious  for  the  most  ardent  aspirant  for  mili 
tary  fame.  The  war,  which  was  terminated  by  the  peace  of  1763,  in 
which  France,  Austria,  Russia,  Sweden,  and  Saxony  were  united  against 
Prussia,  and  which  was  commenced  on  the  part  of  the  allies,  for  the  con 
quest  and  spoliation  of  the  dominions  of  his  Prussian  majesty,  afforded 
the  boldest  and  most  successful  campaigns,  and  the  most  splendid  victo- 
ries,  of  any  in  modern  times.  The  exertions  of  the  king  of  Prussia,  in 
sustaining  himself,  with  the  assistance  of  Great  Britain,  as  his  ally,  against 
so  many,  and  so  powerful  enemies,  was  truly  astonishing.  But  his  active 
genius  overcame  all  difficulties,  taught  his  enemies  to  respect  him,  and 
secured  to  him  a  military  reputation,  not  second  to  any  commander  of  the 
age.  To  have  served  with  this  great  general,  in  his  memorable  campaigns, 
and  taken  a  part  in  such  great  and  splendid  victories  as  those  of  Prague, 
Lissa,  Crevelt,  Zoondorff,  Mincjen;  an,d  Torgau,  was  sufficient  to  confer 


606  BARON    DE    STEUBEN. 

experience,  and  establish  a  military  character,  of  no  ordinary  distinction. 
But  to  have  perfumed  this  service,  under  a  commander  so  severe,  with  suc 
cess  and  honour,  and  to  have  secured  his  highest  confidence,  was  a  more 
conclusive  proof  of  military  genius  and  talents.  And  that  Baron  Steuben 
did  this,  is  sufficiently  evident,  from  the  single  fact,  were  there  no  other,  of 
his  having  served  as  aid  to  his  Prussian  majesty;  who  would  have  no  offi 
cer  around  his  person,  that  did  not  sustain  the  first  reputation  for  courage 
and  capacity.  The  Baron  rose  to  the  high  rank  of  lieuteriaut- general  in 
the  Prussian  service. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  American  war,  there  was  a  general  peace  in 
Europe;  which  favoured  the  wishes  of  those  patriots  and  adventurers  in 
that  hemisphere,  wtio  desired  to  signalize  their  valour  and  patriotism,  in 
assisting  an  infant  people,  struggling  for  their  rights.  Among  the  nu 
merous  foreigners,  who  honoured  the  American  cause,  by  crossing  the 
Atlantic  to  serve  it,  some  no  doubt  acted  from  no  other  motive,  than  those 
which  usually  govern  the  conduct  of  military  adventurers.  Many,  how 
ever,  without  doubt,  were  influenced  by  more  noble  and  exalted  motives;  a 
regard  for  liberty,  and  a  sincere  desire  to  establish  it  in  the  new  world ; 
which  might  serve  both  as  an  asylum,  and  an  example  for  the  old.  And. 
notwithstanding  the  arbitrary  government  of  Prussia,  under  which  he  had 
lived,  such  were  the  sentiments  and  views  of  Baron  de  Steuben.  His  en 
lightened  mind  led  him  to  esteem  civil  liberty,  as  the  highest  earthly  good ; 
and  he  was  desirous  of  consecrating  his  attachment  to  it,  by  his  services, 
if  not  by  his  blood.  He  sailed  from  France  to  the  United  States,  and 
arrived  at  Portsmouth,  in  New-Hampshire,  in  Nov.  1777.  He  brought 
with  him  strong  recommendations  from  the  American  commissioners  at 
Paris,  and  others,  to  congress.  Notwithstanding  which,  however,  he  in 
formed  that  body,  that  he  wished  for  no  rank,  or  compensation,  and  only 
requested  permission,  as  a  volunteer,  to  render  what  service  he  could  to 
the  American  army,  and  the  cause  in  which  the  country  was  engaged.— r 
The  following  winter  he  spent  at  Valley  Forge;  where  the  American  army 
was  in  winter  quarters,  under  Washington.  As  is  well  known,  the  army 
at  this  time  was  in  a  most  suffering  condition;  being  in  want  of  provisions, 
clothing,  and  almost  every  thing  which  their  comfort  required.  But, 
notwithstanding  these  discouraging  circumstances,  Baron  de  Steuben  ex 
erted  himself,  with  great  assiduity,  to  improve  the  discipline  and  manoeuvres 
of  the  army.  From  his  great  military  science  and  experience,  his  pru 
dent  conduct,  and  the  interest  he  manifested  in  the  cause  he  had  espous 
ed,  he  soon  acquired  the  confidence  of  Washington.  Early  in  the  year 
1 778,  ijieneral  Conway  resigned  the  office  of  inspector  general ;  and  Wash 
ington,  sensible  of  the  great  military  skill  and  acquirements  of  Steuben, 
immediately  recommended  him  to  congress,  for  that  important  post;  which 
was  soon  after  conferred  on  him,  with  the  rank  of  major  general. 

Being  clothed  with  authority,  and  it  being  now  his  particular  duty  to  at 
tend  to  the  discipline  of  the  troops,  his  distinguished  talents  as  a  tacti 
cian  were  soon  rendered  conspicuous  in  the  improved  discipline  of  the 
troops.  He  exerted  himself  to  introduce  a  uniform  and  improved  system 
of  manoeuvres,  and  by  his  skill,  perseverance,  and  industry,  effected,  du 
ring  the  continuance  of  the  troops  at  Valley  Forge,  a  most  important  and 
advantageous  improvement  in  the  discipline  of  all  ranks  of  the  army. 
After  General  Arnold  had  treacherqusJy  deserted  his  post  at  West-Point t 


BARON    DE    STEUBEN.  607 

the  Baron  never  failed  to  manifest  his  indignation  and  abhorrence  of  his 
name  and  character,  and  while  inspecting  Col.  Sheldon's  regiment  of  light 
horse,  the  name  of  Arnold  struck  his  ear.  The  soldier  was  ordered  to 
the  front, •  he  was  a  fine-looking  fellow,  his  horse  and  equipments  in  excel 
lent  order-"Change  your  name,  brother  soldier,"  said  the  Baron,  "yih  aro 
too  respectable  to  bear  the  name  of  a  traitor."  "What  name  shall  I  take. 
General?"  "Take  any  other  name;  mine  is  at  your  service."  Most 
cheerfully  was  the  offer  accepted,  and  his  name  was  entered  on  the  roll  as 
Steuben.  He  or  his  children  now  enjoy  the  land  given  to  him  in  the 
town  of  Steuben  by  the  Baron.  This  brave  soldier  met  him  after  the 
war.  "lam  well  settled,  General," said  he,  "and  have  a  wife  and  son;  I 
have  called  my  son  after  you,  Sir."  "I  thank  you,  my  friend;  what  name 
have  you  given  the  boy?"  "I  called  him  Baron — what  else  could  I  call 
iiim?" 

When  Sir  Henry  Clinton  evacuated  Philadelphia  for  New  York,  and 
was  pursued  by  Washington,  Steuben  accompanied  the  American  army: 
and  although  he  had  no  particular  command,  he  volunteered  in  the  action 
of  Monmouth.  He  continued  his  exertions  to  improve  the  discipline  of 
the  army,  and  to  introduce  his  system,  and  thus  establish  uniformity 
throughout  the  different  corps  of  the  army;  and  for  this  purpose,  in  1779, 
an  abstract  of  his  system  of  discipline  and  tactics  was  published  in  com 
pliance  with  the  wishes  of  the  commander  in  chief,  and  of  congress. — 
This  being  put  into  the  hands  of  all  the  officers,  had  a  wonderful  influence 
in  improving,  and  giving  uniformity  to  the  different  corps  of  the  army. 

In  October,  1780,  after  the  defeat  and  dispersion  of  the  southern  army 
at  Camden,  under  General  Gates,  great  anxiety  was  felt  for  the  fate  of 
the  southern  states;  and  congress,  in  a  particular  manner,  directed  their 
attention  to  the  state  of  the  war  in  that  department.  General  Greene  was 
appointed  to  supercede  Gates;  Major  Lee  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-colonel,  and  ordered  to  join  the  southern  army  with  his  legion* 
ary  corps;  and  Baron  de  Stuben  was  directed  to  proceed  to  Virginia,  to 
organize,  from  the  militia,  and  other  elements  which  the  state  afforded, 
the  means  of  defence  against  the  forces  of  the  enemy,  then  in  the  state, 
and  threatening  the  destruction  of  its  principal  towns. 

While  upon  this  duty,  a  regiment  had  been  collected,  and  was  paraded 
on  the  point  of  marching,  when  a  well-looking  man  on  horseback  rode  up 
and  informed  the  Baron  that  he  had  brought  him  a  recruit.  "I  thank  you, 
Sir,"  said  the  Baron,  "with  all  my  heart — where  is  your  man  Colonel?" 
for  he  was  a  colonel  in  the  militia.  "Here,  Sir,"  ordering  his  boy  to  dis 
mount.  The  Baron's  countenance  changed,  for  he  was  to  honest  too  suffer 
an  imposition  to  be  practised  on  the  public  A  sergeant  was  ordered  to 
measure  the  lad,  whose  shoes,  when  off,  discovered  something  by  which 
his  stature  had  been  increased.  The  Baron  patting  the  child's  head,  with 
his  hands  trembling  with  rage,  asked  him  how  old  he  was?  He  was  very 
young,  quite  a  child.  "Sir,"  said  he,  to  the  militia  Colonel,  "you  must 
have  supposed  me  to  be  a  rascal."  "Oh  no!  Baron,  I  did  not."  "Then, 
Sir,  I  suppose  you  to  be  a  rascal,  an  infamous  rascal,  thus  to  attempt  to 
cheat  your  country.  Sergeant,  take  off  this  fellow's  spurs  and  place  him 
in  the  ranks,  that  we  may  have  a  man  able  to  serve  instead  of  an  infant, 
whom  he  would  basely  have  made  his  substitute!  Go,  my  boy,  take  the 
colonel's  spurs  and  horse  to  his  wife;  make  my  compliments,  and  say  her 


BARON    DE    STEUBEN. 

husband  has  gone  to  fight  tor  the  freedom  of  his  country,  as  an  hones* 
man  should  do" — and  instantly  ordered— "Platoons!  to  the  right  wheel — 
forward  march !" 

Colonel  Gaskins,  who  commanded  the  regiment,  fearing  the  consequen 
ces,  £fter  marching  some  distance,  allowed  the  man  to  escape,  who  im 
mediately  made  application  to  the  civil  authority  for  redress;  but  Gov. 
Jefferson,  Mr.  Madison,  and  others  not  doubting  the  purity  of  (he  Baron's 
motive  and  fully  appreciating  his  honest  zeal,  prevented  any  disagreeable 
results  attending  this  high-handed  exertion  of  military  power. 

Great  apprehensions  were  felt  for  the  safety  of  Richmond,  threatened 
by  the  British  General  Leslie  at  Portsmouth;  but  about  the  time  the  Ba 
ron  arrived  at  the  capital  of  Virginia,  the  enemy  left  Portsmouth,  which 
prevented  the  necessity  of  those  measures  which  had  been  planned  fof 
his  expulsion,  and  Virginia,  for  a  short  time  remained  tranquil.  Early  in 
January,  '81,  however,  this  repose  was  disturbed  by  the  arrival  of  the 
traitor,  Arnold,  in  the  Chesapeake,  who  landed  his  forces  on  the  James 
River,  a  few  miles  below  Richmond.  His  ravages  were  immediately  felt 
at  Richmond,  Smithfield,  and  other  places.  Baron  de  Steuben  exerted 
himself  to  collect  and  organize  a  force  of  militia  to  oppose  his  destructive 
progress.  This  induced  Arnold  to  retire  to  Portsmouth,  and  commence 
works  of  defence.  But  the  militia  carne  in  slow,  and  a  considerable  por 
tion  of  which  being  without  arms,  the  Baron  could  do  no  more  than  pro 
tect  the  country  from  the  predatory  incursions  of  small  parties.  These 
movements  in  Virginia  induced  congress  to  order  La  Fayette  to  the  south, 
to  oppose  Arnold,  with  the  expected  co-operation  of  the  French  fleet.  All 
the  troops  of  the  continental  establishment  of  Virginia,  being  under  Gen. 
Greene,  in  South  Carolina,  the  defence  of  the  state,  against  the  depreda 
tions  of  the  enemy,  rested  on  the  militia,  of  which  the  Baron  had  collected 
about  2,000:  one  half  were  on  the  north  side  of  James  River,  under  Gen. 
Nelson,  and  with  the  other  half  the  Baron  made  an  attempt  to  protect 
Petersburg!),  but  his  means  being  wholly  inadequate  to  the  object,  he  was 
obliged  to  retreat,  and  suffer  the  enemy  to  enter  the  town.  Previous  to 
this,  Arnold  had  been  reinforced  by  General  Phillips,  who  had  taken  the 
chief  command.  The  Baron  could  do  no  more  than  watch  the  motions, 
of  the  enemy,  and  check  the  predatory  incursions  of  small  parties. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  with  a  small  force  of  reg 
ulars,  he  joined  Steuben,  and  took  upon  him  the  chief  command.  Their 
united  force  checked  the  progress  of  General  Phillips,  and  compelled  him 
to  turn  his  steps  towards  City-Point,  where  his  fleet  lay. 

In  the  various  marches  and  counter-marches  which  characterized  the 
operations  between  La  Fayette  and  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  soon  after  as 
sumed  the  command  of  the  British  forces  in  Virginia,  the  Baron  Stouben 
afforded  the  most  prompt  and  ready  assistance  to  the  Young  Marquis.  He 
was  stationed  at  Point  Fork,  with  500  new  levies  to  protect  the  American 
stores,  when  Tarleton  was  ordered  to  destroy  them ;  and  as  the  enemy 
approached,  being  led  into  a  belief  that  the  whole  British  army  was  near, 
he  deemed  it  advisable  to  make  a  rapid  retreat  during  the  night,  leaving 
all  the  stores  to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  enemy.  But  though  he  lost  the 
stores,  he  saved  his  men,  and  succeeded  in  joining  the  Marquis,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  received  a  reinforcement  of  the  rifle  corps,  under  Colonel 
Clark,  which  enabled  the  Marquis  to  assume  a  more  imposing  attitude. 


BARON    DE    STEtfBEr^  609 

The  Baron  continued  to  co-operate  with  La  Fayette  in  the  subsequent 
events  of  the  campaign,  which  was  terminated  by  the  seige  of  Yorktown. 
He  generally  had  the  command  of  militia,  or  of  new  levies,  and  was 
improving  their  discipline  whilst  he  was  aiding  the  operations  of  the 
Marquis.  He  was  present  during  the  seig-e  of  Yorktown,  and  exerted 
himself  with  great  ardour  in  the  various  operations,  and  commanded  in 
the  trenches  on  the  day  the  enemy  surrendered,  and  was  entitled  to  a 
share  in  the  honor  of  this  memorable  siege,  which  so  gloriously  termina 
ted  the  great  struggle  in  which  the  country  was  engaged. 

"At  the  siege  of  Yorktown  the  Baron  was  in  the  trenches,  at  the  head 
of  his  division,  and  received  the  first  overture  of  Lord  Corn  wall  is  to  ca 
pitulate.  At  the  relieving  hour,  next  morning,  the  Marquis  de  la  Fa^  tte 
approached  at  the  head  of  his  division  to  relieve  him.  The  Baron  refused 
to  quit  the  trenches,  assigning  as  a  reason  the  etiquette  in  Europe,  that 
the  otfer  to  capitulate  had  been  made  during  his  tour  of  duty,  and  that  it 
was  a  point  of  honor  of  which  he  would  not  deprive  his  troops,  to  remain 
in  the  trenches  till  the  capitulation  was  signed  or  hostilities  recommenced. 
The  dispute  was  referred  to  the  commander-in-chief,  and  the  Baron  was 
permitted  to  remain  till  the  British  flag  was  struck.  While  on  this  duty, 
the  Baron  peceiving  himself  in  danger  from  a  shell  thrown  from  the  enemy, 
threw  himself  suddenly  into  the  trench;  General  Wayne,  in  the  jeopardy 
and  hurry  of  the  moment  fell  on  him;  the  Baron  turning  his  eyes,  saw 
it  was  his  brigadier,  'I  always  knew  you  were  a  brave  general,"  said  he, 
'but  I  did  not  know  you  were  so  perfect  in  every  point  of  duty,  you  cover 
your  general's  retreat  in  the  best  manner  possible.' " 

The  Baron  returned  to  the  northward,  and  remained  with  the  army, 
continually  employed,  till  the  peace,  in  perfecting  its  discipline. 

"At  the  disbandment  of  the  revolutionary  army,  when  inmates  of  the 
same  tent,  or  hut,  for  seven  long  years,  were  separating,  and  probably  for 
ever;  grasping  each  other's  hand,  in  silent  agony,  I  saw,"' says  Dr  Tha- 
cher,  in  his  Military  Journal,  "the  Baron's  strong  endeavors  to  throw  some 
ray  of  sunshine  on  the  gloom,  to  mix  some  drop  of  cordial  with  the  pain 
ful  draught.  To  go,  they  knew  not  whither;  all  recollection  of  the  art 
to  thrive  by  civil  occupations  lost,  or  to  the  youthful  never  known.  Their 
hardearned  military  knowledge  worse  than  useless,  and  with  their  badge 
of  brotherhood,  a  mark  at  which  to  point  the  finger  of  suspicion — ignoble 
vile  suspicion !  to  be  cast  out  on  a  world,  long  since  by  them  forgotten. 
Severed  from  friepds,  and  all  the  joys  and  griefs  which  soldiers  feel! 
Griefs,  while  hope  remained — when  shared  by  numbers,  almost  joys! 
Togo  in  silence  and  alone,  and  poor  and  hopeless;  it  was  too  hard? 
On  that  sad  day  how  many  hearts  were  wrung!  I  saw  it  all,  nor  will 
the  scene  be  ever  blurred  or  blotted  from  my  view.  To  a  stern  old 
officer,  a  Lieutenant-Colonel  Cochran,  from  the  Green  Mountains; 
who  had  met  danger  and  difficulty  almost  in  every  step  from  his  youth, 
and  from  whose  furrowed  visage  a  tear  till  that  moment  had  never  fallen, 
the  Baron  said — what  could  be  said,  to  lessen  deep  distress?  'For  myself/ 
said  Cochran,  'I  care  not,  1  can  stand  it;  but  my  wife  and  daughters  are 
in  the  garret  of  thai  wretched  tavern.  I  know  not  where  to  remove,  nor 
have  I  means  for  their  removal!'  'Come,  my  friend,'  said  the  Baron,  'let 
us  go — I  will  pay  my  respects  to  Mrs.  Cochran  and  your  daughters,  if  you 
I  followed  to  the  loft,  the  lower  rooms  being  all  filled  with  sol- 


610  BARON    DE    STEUBEN. 

diers,  with  drunkenness,  despair,  and  blasphemy.  And  when  the  Baron 
left  the  poor  unhappy  cast-aways,  he  left  hope  with  them,  and  all  he  had 
to  give. — A  black  man,  with  wounds  unhealed,  wept  on  the  wharf — (for 
it  was  at  Newburgh  where  this  tragedy  was  acting) — there  was  a  vessel  in 
the  stream,  bound  to  the  place  where  he  once  had  friends.  He  had  not 
a  dollar  to  pay  his  passage,  and  could  not  walk.  Unused  to  tears,  I  saw 
them  trickle  down  this  good  man's  cheeks  as  he  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
black  man  the  last  dollar  he  possessed.  The  negro  hailed  the  sloop,  and 
cried, 'God  Almighty  bless  you,  master  Baron '.' 

"What  good  and  honorable  man,  civil  or  military,  before  the  accursed 
party-spirit  murdered  friendships,  did  not  respect  and  love  the  Baron? 
WV  g>  most?  Those  who  knew  him  best.  After  the  peace  the  Baron  re 
tired  to  a  farm  in  the  vicinity  of  New  York,  where,  with  forming  a  system 
for  the  organization  and  discipline  of  the  militia,  books,  chess,  and  the  frej 
quent  visits  of  his  numerous  !riends,  he  passed  his  time  as  agreeably  as  a 
frequent  want  of  funds  would  permit.  The  state  of  New  Jersey  had 
given  him  a  small  improved  farm,  and  the  state  of  New  York  gave  him 
a  tract  of  sixteen  thousand  atres  of  land  in  the  county  of  Oneida.  After 
the  general  government  was  in  full  operation,  by  the  exertions  of  Colonel 
Hamilton,  patronised  and  enforced  by  President  Washington,  a  grant  of 
two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  per  annum  was  made  to  him  for  life. 
The  summers  were  now  chiefly  spent  on  his  land,  and  his  winters  in  the 
city.  His  sixteen  thousand  acres  of  land  were  in  the  uncultivated  wil 
derness;  he  built  a  convenient  log-house,  cleared  sixty  acres,  parcelled 
out  his  land  on  easy  terms  to  twenty  or  thirty  tenants,  distributed  nearly 
a  tenth  of  the  tract  in  gifts  to  his  aids-de-camp  and  servants,  and  sat  him 
self  down  to  a  certain  degree  contented  without  society,  except  that  of  a 
young  gentleman  who  read  to  and  with  him.  lie  ate  only  at  dinner,  but 
he  ate  with  a  strong  appetite.  In  drinking  he  was  always  temperate;  in 
deed  he  was  free  from  every  vicious  habit.  His  powers  of  mind  and  body 
were  strong,  and  he  received  to  a  certain  extent,  a  liberal  eduction.  His 
days  were  undoubtedly  shortened  by  his  sedentary  mode  of  life.  He  was 
seized  with  an  apoplexy,  which  in  a  few  hours  was  fatal.  Agreeably  to 
his  desire  oflen  expressed ,  he  was  wrapped  in  his  cloak,  placed  in  a  plain 
coftin,  and  hid  in  the  earth,  without  a  stone  to  tell  where  he  lies.  A  few 
neighbors,  his  servants,  the  young  gentleman  his  late  companion,  and  one 
on  whom  for  fifteen  years  his  countenance  never  ceased  to  beam  witli 
kindness,  followed  to  the  grave.  It  was  in  a  thick,  a  lonely  wood;  but 
in  a  few  years  after  a  public  highway  was  opened  near  or  over  the  hallow 
ed  sod!  Col.  Walker  snatched  the  poor  remains  of  his  dear  friend  from 
sacreligious  violation,  and  gave  a  bounty  to  protect  the  grave  in  which  he 
laid  them,  from  rude  and  impious  intrusion.  He  died  in  1 795,  in  the  65th 
year  of  his  age." 

.Baron  Steuben  possessed  profound  and  extensive  professional  knowl 
edge,  the  result  of  much  study  and  experience,  which  was  united  with  a 
competent  share  of  general  science  and  intelligence,  matured  by  great 
experience;  he  was  accomplished  in  his  manners,  correct  in  his  morals,  and 
was  sincerely  attached  to  the  dearest  interest  of  humanity.  His  system  of 
discipline  and  tactics,  was  adopted  in  the  militia  of  the  United  States, 
and  continued  to  be  used  fora  great  number  of  years;  and  had  a  veryexten 
sive  and  salutary  influence  in  promoting  discipline  and  knowledge  of  the 
use  of  arms. 


,        •  ...«.     s  .  •'    .. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


* 


boolcs  are  subject  to  immediate  recall.         ' 


California 
Berkeley 


K'V 


&v 


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* 


W  i 


